System Restore: Real World
by Flynn1
Summary: The sequel to "System Restore". Kevin, Clu, Tron and Alan have escaped the Grid - what happens now?...
1. Chapter 1

_**System Restore: Real World  
><strong>_

(this is the sequel to "System Restore", a Tron post-Legacy AU fan-fiction story)

_D__isclaimer: I don't own "Tron". I'm just a fan. The plot for this story, as with it's predecessor "System Restore", was written by me but is based on the "Tron" and "Tron: Legacy" characters and plot-line, all of which of course belong to Disney. Any quotes from the "Tron" or "Tron Legacy" films used in this story are done so strictly as homage to the films. _

* * *

><p>The Sea of Simulation. It's surface shattered easily like a layer of smooth glass as his armored lightsuit hit it, but having fallen from such an altitude it felt as though he'd broken through a layer of bricks. Thankfully his boots and backside had made impact with the water's surface first, but the unruly jolt of it was like a severe spanking, sending spikes of pain up each leg and all across his back.<p>

For a split-second it reminded him of the worst diving experience he'd ever had in his youth - plummeting from the high-dive board at the pool and landing on his back. But this wasn't at all like any pool he'd ever been in...the waters were dark, murky, thick, and there were all sorts of strange, odd-shaped things which bumped against him as he sunk quickly into the depths. In the rapidly waning light from the surface and the faint yellow glow from his suit, he could only barely discern a few of the shapes through the dark-tinted helmet, but he guessed they were probably clusters of data floating up against him. However, they resembled instead what he'd imagined must've inhabited the primordial ooze on prehistoric Earth, the thought of which sent an involuntary shiver of revulsion through him, and he tried batting the things away but they were everywhere he moved. One of them floated under the face shield of his helmet and he panicked, then tried in vain to swim upward and get away from the things, only to find he wasn't quite sure which way was up - he knew was going to run out of breath to hold if he didn't figure that out soon.

Something in the part of his mind which wasn't panicking compelled him to stop fighting and just float, at which point he saw that total darkness now surrounded the dim yellow glow of the suit's circuitry. The bizarre, primordial data-things were still bumping up against him and it was the creepiest sensation ever, but then he caught a faint glimpse of something as it floated up past his helmet. His gaze fixated on it, and he looked up to see there were dozens of hem, tiny cube-like things which were sailing upwards around him like bubbles, all becoming more luminous as they went. It took him only a second to realize they were pixels finding their way to the surface. So he lurched upward, swimming as quickly as he could to follow them.

Finally he reached the surface, gasping for breath and shaking his helmeted head. As he caught his breath and the adrenalin subsided, he deactivated the helmet and looked quickly around...the faint lights of the cityscape spread over the skies in one direction from just over the jagged hilltops, while behind him and overhead there was only the thick layer of clouds in the darkened sky, lit occasionally by flashes of sporadic lightning. And there he was, treading water out in the middle of nowhere, adrift in the Sea of Simulation.

There wasn't much of a choice to make.  
>Sink was out of the question. It was going to be swim, and, swim in the direction of the city.<br>So that he did, slowly, grumbling quietly in his thoughts all the way, batting aside random clumps of data which floated up to the surface around him, and stopping every so often to float when his very fatigued limbs needed rest.

* * *

><p><em>Los Angeles<br>basement of Flynn's Arcade_  
>: : : : : : :<p>

The sudden flash of light made Quorra flinch, dropping her book. Reflexively she crouched to retrieve it, only to glimpse a pair of black boots just inches away from her hand.  
>She froze, her gaze following from the boots up to the black pant-legs, past a black leather jacket and deep-blue turtleneck shirt, and finally meeting the face of a dark-haired blue-eyed young man she'd never seen in her life. The young man stared back at her in equal surprise, and she slowly rose to her feet, backing away and looking towards Sam in confusion.<p>

At the same time, Sam whirled around to find himself face to face with Alan Bradley.  
>Alan's eyes were wide as saucers, and he wavered slightly on his feet, looking more than just a little a bit like he might be about to faint.<p>

"_Alan!" _Sam gasped and lurched forward, grabbing hold of the older man's shoulders, and then catching him around the torso just before his knees buckled.  
>Redoubling his grasp, Sam stammered out words quickly as he tried to keep Alan from falling.<p>

"_Whoa!...okay, no, you're-good-you're-good,...it's-okay,...I got ya'..." _

Alan nodded, grabbing Sam's arm, finally finding his balance and then patting the young man's shoulder awkwardly.  
>He shook his head, then finally managed a slight chuckle as he caught his breath. <em>"...uh...thanks."<em>

Then Sam patted him firmly on the shoulders, slightly out of breath himself. _"You okay?"_

Alan nodded, trying to straighten his wayward glasses back into position on his face, and exhaling a sigh. Then Sam nearly hugged the breath out of him again, patting his back as he did. _"Man am I glad to see you!"_

From somewhere behind them came a very familiar voice._ "Um,...Clu? You can let go of my arm now, buddy..."_

And then came another voice identical to it, sounding a bit sheepish. _"Oh. S-sorry."_

Sam spun around at the sound of the voices, stepping away from Alan, then looked down, realizing the voices were coming from the floor across the room.  
>Clu was scrambling to his feet, looking around wide-eyed at the very unfamiliar surroundings, and Kevin was very slowly raising to a standing position, hands grabbing at his lower back as he stood, and then he laughed and groaned at the same time.<p>

"_...oww..."_

Sam bolted over to him in a heartbeat, wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug which Kevin returned just as tightly, his voice breaking with emotion. _"Hey, kiddo..."_

When they finally parted, Alan stepped closer to them, looking at Kevin and gaping incredulously, squinting and adjusting his glasses.

"_Kev?..." _and then he chuckled, smiling at his old friend. _"...you look like Grizzly Adams."_

Kevin's brows shot upward in surprise, and his face registered confusion for a second, until his hand reached to feel his heavily-bearded face.  
>He gave a wry smile.<br>Well, that answered that question...he'd rezzed back to the real world at his actual age again, which right now he would have sworn was ninety-three, judging from how achy he felt.  
>His heavily whiskered cheeks broke into a warm grin, wrinkles arching at the corners of his eyes, and he reached to embrace his friend, patting him on the shoulder.<br>Then he stepped back and pointed at his graying beard, chuckling with a silly expression on his face.

"_There. See? ...'this make you feel any better, Bradley?" _Kevin patted his old friend on the arm. _ "...told ya' I was no spring chicken."_

Alan sporfled, nodding, and opened his mouth to reply, but stopped abruptly when something breezed right past his shoulder in almost a blur, followed by a shuffle of footsteps and then a disturbing "whump!" sound.

The sound of Sam's slightly-addled voice was next. _"Quorra! Wait – No!..."_

Kevin and Alan turned to see that the petite five-foot-seven Quorra had slammed the very surprised six-foot-two Clu back against the far wall, and was holding him by the lapels of his jacket, glaring at him with venom in her eyes. He simply stared back at her with complete shock on his face. Sam had hold of Quorra's shoulder and was trying to gently pull her arm back but she wasn't budging. He stepped away and looked back at Kevin awkwardly. _"Uh,...Dad?..." _

Kevin stepped over to them, and spoke in a low, calm voice as he reached out his hand. _"Quorra?..."_

She didn't budge.

"_Quorra."_ His voice was still soft and sympathetic, but a little more firm. She shifted her eyes to look at him, releasing her grip on Clu's jacket only slightly.

Kevin spoke again, his hand reaching to her shoulder. _"Q,...come on now,... "_

He patted her shoulder lightly, and very slowly she released hold of Clu's jacket.  
>Then she lowered her arms, but she was still shaking, her breathing a barely-controlled fuming, and her jaw set with righteous anger.<br>In her eyes glowed vengeance for all which had befallen her people, all which had befallen her, Sam, her mentor, and every program on the Grid who had suffered under Clu's erstwhile tyrannical reign.  
>She stared at Clu for several seconds more, and then took a step back, shifting her gaze to Kevin, who stood there with his arm outstretched.<br>The intense anger seemed to melt from her, as furious wide eyes softened to sadness and then welled with tears.  
>Then she turned and wrapped her arms around Kevin, burying her head against his chest and weeping as he enclosed her in a hug.<br>His soothing voice was little more than a whisper as he stood embracing her, smoothing her hair with his hand.

"_It's okay, Q,...shh,...it's okay...I know-...I know what you're feeling,...but,...it's all gonna be okay..."_

After a few seconds, Quorra sniffled and stepped back, wiping her face with her sleeves.  
>She gave Kevin a soft smile. Then her smile faded to an icy, blank stare as she turned her gaze back to Clu, whose own eyes slowly dropped to stare at the floor, discomfort and remorse evident in his shadowed face.<p>

Sam watched the interchange somewhat nervously, with his hands in his pockets.  
>He too had very mixed emotions about Clu, but he wasn't about to start something - at least not here.<br>There would be a time and a place for everyone to voice their concerns and feelings, but he was fairly sure this wasn't it.

However, it seemed Tron had other ideas.

Up until now, the security-program-turned-human had been standing silently by the doorway, staring around the room in mild amazement and observing the proceedings so quietly that Sam had almost forgotten he was there. The two of them had never even been actually introduced anyway, at least not since he'd become Tron again as opposed to the terrifying Grid-warrior Rinzler.  
>But now when Tron spoke in a soft voice identical to Alan's, everyone turned to look at him, including Alan, who seemed almost amused at hearing his own voice coming from the young man who looked like an exact real-world replica of him from twenty years ago.<p>

"_If I may,..."_ Tron began, walking slowly across to Quorra as he spoke in a gentle, cordial tone, _"I haven't introduced myself. At least, not as-" _

He stopped, glancing quickly at Sam, then at Kevin, then back at Quorra, before giving a sigh and a soft wry smile, extending his hand to her.

"_I am Tron. I have known Kevin Flynn for many cycles. I was once the protector of the Grid. I fought for the Users,...until-"_

Then he paused again, drawing in a deep breath.  
>Sam watched with growing uneasiness, exhaling slowly. He could see where this was going.<br>He glanced at Alan, who simply shifted his eyes to look back at him and raised an eyebrow.

Quorra stared at Kevin, her eyes wide, then she met Tron's gaze and hesitantly reached to shake his hand.  
>He smiled again during the handshake, and then afterward he returned his hands to his sides, his face slowly taking on a more solemn look.<br>When he continued speaking again, his eyes mirrored hints of the same remorse she had just seen in Clu's.

"_...until-...I became...the one called...Rinzler."_

Quorra's eyes flew open wider, and she stepped back, looking at Kevin again with a furrowed brow.  
>But her mentor only gave her a gentle, reassuring nod. When she looked back incredulously at Tron again, he continued.<p>

"_I was...repurposed. I recall very little of what took place, or what I did, but I am deeply regretful of that which I do remember." _He paused, raising an eyebrow and dipping his chin, the same way Alan often did when he asserted a crucial point. _"However,...I am **not** Rinzler now, nor will I ever be again. Kevin repaired my coding. I am Tron. I fight for the Users. And I always will."_

Hearing those words, Alan couldn't help but to chuckle softly, smiling proudly at his program. Sam glanced at him, then back at Quorra.  
>Quorra stared at Tron, then at Kevin, then back at Tron, her eyes still wide and fraught with intensity.<br>Tron glanced over at Clu, and then he continued speaking, his voice firm but sympathetic.

"_As horrific as it all was,...the past is gone. The things which caused it have been corrected. And, while I cannot speak for Clu, I do feel you should know something..."_

Tron paused, walking to stand beside Clu, who looked up at him, his face still solemn. Then Tron turned to look back at both Quorra and Sam,...and there went the Alan Bradley eyebrow again as he continued gently but matter-of-factly making his point.

"_This **isn't** the same Clu you once knew-... we, once knew. Not only has he shown remorse for his previous actions, and for the glitch which drove him to commit them, but,...he helped to restore my programming with the aid of the Creator. He also rescued my User and helped us all escape the Grid, endangering himself in the process. He was prepared to give his life to protect Kevin Flynn, to help him escape the Grid – and he almost did give his life. There is no greater sacrifice, no greater atonement, than that."_

Tron paused, looking back at Clu._ "He fights for the Users too. And...he is my friend. I'm going to ask you to forgive him. Let's move forward."_

Clu stared back at Tron in amazement, speechless at the words, his eyes suddenly welling with moisture.  
>His jaw clenched and he tried to blink back the emotion, then was surprised when drops overflowed from his eyes, rolling down onto his cheek.<br>He quickly glanced away, embarrassed, brushing a hand across his face and blinking furiously.

Tron was silent. He turned and looked first at Sam, then at Quorra.  
>Quorra stared at Tron, then at Clu, then stared at the floor, eyes intense with a myriad of thoughts and emotions.<br>Sam nodded, glancing at Clu, then he looked down at the floor and cleared his throat.  
>Alan removed his glasses, giving a wry smile at his program and quickly wiping at the corners of his eyes.<p>

Kevin's eyes brimmed with tears as well, and he looked at Quorra with the same quiet, wise expression she'd come to know and trust over the cycles, until she finally looked up from the floor and met his gaze. She held it for a moment, then finally turned and took a halting step forward, looking again at the one who had been her sworn enemy for so long.  
>Clu looked back at the ISO, his eyes stricken with so many things which he couldn't seem to find the words to say.<br>He opened his mouth to try, but all which got past his lips was a whispered and shaky, _"I … am … sorry..." _before his jaw tensed again and his eyes filled once more with tears.  
>Blinking the tears back and clearing his throat, he glanced at the floor, then he looked at Quorra again.<br>She didn't speak or smile, just looked back at him, and slowly nodded in quiet acceptance.

After a few more silent and tense moments, it was Kevin who spoke, a hint of a smile in his low, soft voice. _"Proud of you, Q."_

He glanced at Sam. _"You too, kiddo."_

Then he raised his brows and looked over at his young doppelganger, giving a slight grin. _"And you too, Clu."_

And then he walked over to Tron, grasping his shoulder, meeting his eyes with a knowing look and a smile. _"Thank you, Tron."_

Tron simply nodded somewhat stoically.  
>Then after a few more moments of awkward silence in the room, he got a peculiar, curious look on his face, and stared at the Creator, tilting his head.<p>

"_Kevin...why are things somewhat blurry here in your world?..."_

Kevin's eyebrows rose, and he looked puzzled, even slightly alarmed. His eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to speak, but before he could answer, Alan chuckled and stepped over towards Tron with a sardonic grin.

"_Kev,...'think this one's mine." _

The older man took off his glasses, then handed them towards his look-a-like. _"Here. Try these on."_

Tron's eyes narrowed, staring curiously and almost warily at the contraption his User was offering him.  
>Alan just nodded, encouraging him, and then finally reached and carefully placed the glasses onto Tron's face, tucking the ear-pieces into position and stepping back.<p>

"_There. How's that?"_

Tron blinked, looked around the room, and then smiled. _"Much better." _

Kevin grinned ear to ear, then let out a laugh and clapped his hands, rocking back on his heels as he chuckled.  
>Both Tron and Alan looked over at Kevin, and he just shook his head, grinning at Tron. <em> "Okay,... <em>_**now**__ you're freaking me out."_

Tron looked at Kevin, and then at Alan, amused but slightly puzzled. _"What?..."_

Alan rolled his eyes, then smirked at Kevin, his eyes narrowing. _"Oh,...nothing. Ignore him. He does this sometimes. For some reason he likes to make jokes about me wearing glasses." _

Tron looked back and forth between them, not quite understanding the joke, yet smiling at their antics.

Kevin looked at Alan, and chuckled again as crossed his arms, still kidding his old friend. _"I'm tellin' ya - it's downright spooky!...Straight outta' the way-back machine, man!"_

Alan smirked at Kevin again. Then he looked back at Tron, nodding at the frames he wore. "_I'm afraid I'll need those back...it seems here in this world I can't really see much without them. But I've got an extra pair you can have."_

Tron beamed. His User had a gift for him, and it would help him to see the user world more effectively. _"Thank you, Alan-One!"_

Alan gave him a smirky grin, and patted his shoulder. _"My pleasure. And,...just 'Alan' is fine. No need for the 'one' part." _

Tron nodded, still grinning as he handed Alan back the glasses.

A few more awkward seconds went by, and no one seemed to quite know what to do or say.

Then Sam rubbed his hands together nervously, looking around the room. "_So,... any idea what we do now?...how does everyone feel?..."_

Just then Clu yawned, seeming surprised by it as he did. Kevin caught his yawn and his reaction to it, and he grinned. _"...'think Clu could use a nap. So could I, actually. We're gonna go with 'tired'." _

Quorra thought about it. Then her eyebrows raised. _"Hungry."_

Alan gave a half-nod. _"Ditto, and ditto."_

Tron just shrugged, brows raising slightly as he shook his head. _"I don't really know what those things mean."_

Almost in unison, Alan and Kevin both answered the same,_ "You will..."_ and then both of them chuckled at having blurted out the same thought. Alan shrugged at Kevin. _"Great minds think alike..."  
><em>

Kevin looked over at Tron, his eyes narrowing as he thought of how to explain.  
>This was but one of many, many things about the User world and the human existence which would require explaining.<p>

"Well,...'tired' is when you feel the need to rest,...to go into sleep-mode. Here it's sort of an involuntary thing, as opposed to when you're in the Grid."

Tron nodded, taking in the information, and Kevin continued, _"...and, hungry,...well,... that's like needing energy, only here we have solid energy too,...as opposed to just liquids. Being hungry is involuntary too, just like being tired. Your body just tells you when it's time to eat or sleep."_

Tron nodded again, then his brows furrowed in concentration. After a pause, he spoke. _"Well in that case,...I think I'm...a little tired __**and**__ hungry."_

Kevin grinned, nodding. _"Sounds about right,...after what we've been through." _Then he turned around, staring at the old shelves and taking a look around at the old office which he'd once called "his lab". It was surreal seeing it again, after twenty-one years. Surreal, bittersweet, sad, happy, strange, wonderful, all at the same time. He stood with his hands on his hips, shaking his head. _"...still can't believe we're here."_

Then he turned to Sam. _"Did you check out the loft?... Everything still up there?"_

Sam shrugged. _"Yeah, 'guess so...just...dust covers on everything, you know?"_

Kevin nodded. _"Well, there's at least a bed and a couple of couches up there, a few pillows, ... room enough for us all to relax for a little while. Doesn't help with the hungry part of the equation though." _

Sam looked at Quorra, scratching the back of his neck idly. _"We could go and get some food for everyone really quick. Something simple. Want to?"_

She shrugged and nodded. _"I suppose so."_

Sam turned to Kevin, his brows raising. _"Anything special you'd like?"_

Kevin thought about it for a second, then shook his head. _"Nope,...just whatever's easy. Pizza maybe?"_

Alan nodded enthusiastically in agreement, which didn't surprise Sam a bit.  
>Clu and Tron looked at each other, puzzled, clearly having no idea what pizza was, but Kevin nodded at both of them. <em>"Trust me – you'll dig it." <em>

Sam nodded, then gave them all a slightly wary frown. _"Okay, pizza it is. But I'm locking the door. So don't anybody go anywhere."_

He glanced around the room. Clu was leaning against the wall, looking half-asleep on his feet. Tron was walking slowly around squinting and looking absently at the shelves, not seeming very energetic at all. Alan was standing stretching his tired limbs. Kevin stifled an exhausted yawn, and gave Sam a half chuckle and a slight grin.

"_Yeah, right,...don't worry, kiddo. Nobody's going anywhere. 'Think we'll all be doing really good to just climb the stairs."_

_**Thirty-three minutes later...**_

Sam and Quorra walked back into the arcade.  
>He'd been reticent to leave, had been a nervous wreck all the way to the pizza place and back, and now that they were here again he felt mildly silly for having been so worried.<br>The door had been locked just as they'd left it.  
>The arcade was quiet.<br>The lights were on up in the loft and the blinds were open.

He locked the deadbolt lever, slung the backpack full of water bottles back up onto his shoulder, turned and called out, _"Dad?..." _

No answer.  
>He nodded at Quorra. <em>"Bet they can't hear us up there."<em>

He reached to help Quorra carry one of the large pizza boxes, but she shook her head, smiling, quite content to carry them both.  
>He shrugged, grinning at her.<em> "Still amazed we got all this back here on the bike." <em>

He heard nothing but quiet as they walked up the staircase, and for a second he wondered if they were all still downstairs in the office.  
>Topping the last step he called out again, this time more softly, <em>"Dad?...we got pizza,...and-"<em>

Then he stopped abruptly as they rounded the corner into the loft, breaking into a grin as he looked around the room.  
>Quorra stifled a giggle.<p>

All four men were completely sound asleep.

Kevin was laying on his stomach, his tall form stretched sideways across the top of the bed with his bare feet hanging off the side. His boots and socks were tossed haphazardly onto the floor in the corner, along with his riding jacket.  
>Alan was laying sideways at the foot of the bed, curled on his side, a pillow under his head. His loafers and glassed rested neatly on the floor beside the bed.<br>In the other corner, Clu was sprawled on the smaller of the two modular, curved couches, with his boots still on and his long legs resting up over the arm of the couch. In one hand, a small silvery-gray bit model was clasped close to his chest and his other arm was slung over his head.  
>On the floor beside him, Tron was leaning back against the couch, his legs stretched out in front of him on the carpet and his head resting back against the seat cushions. Another silvery-gray bit model just like the one Clu had sat right beside him on the floor.<p>

Sam looked at Quorra, and both of them smiled.

They tiptoed to the unoccupied couch of the modular set, placing the pizza boxes on the small coffee-table and then sitting down quietly.  
>Sam looked around the room again, chuckling quietly to himself, then leaned over to Quorra and whispered, <em>"Well,...might as well have a slice of pizza, while it's still hot, right?"<em>  
>Quorra shrugged and nodded, grinning as she opened one of the pizza boxes.<p>

It wasn't too much longer until they'd both fallen asleep as well, Sam leaning back on the couch and Quorra curled up next to him with her sock-clad feet tucked underneath her.  
>A few minutes later he opened his eyes briefly, grinning when he heard the sound of his dad snoring softly from across the room.<br>He drifted right back to sleep...for the first time in a very long time, all was right with his world.


	2. Chapter 2

_Los Angeles  
>Flynn's Arcade, upstairs loft<em>

* * *

><p>Two hours had passed since they'd all fallen asleep.<br>The room was quiet, aside from the occasional sound of soft snoring.  
>The take-out pizza boxes sat closed on the coffeetable, still mostly full of pizza.<br>The small lamp was still on in the corner over the two modular couches.

Sam was still fast asleep leaning back on one of the couches, his feet stretched out in front of him on the floor, with Quorra still curled up next to him, her head on his chest.  
>On the other couch, Clu lay sleeping soundly, somehow looking graceful while reclined on a piece of furniture which was way too short for his lanky frame, with his legs draped across the armrest.<p>

Tron still slept sitting on the floor beside the couch, leaning his head back against the seat cushions. For a former program who'd been unsure of whether or not he was tired, he certainly slept deeply and imperturbably - twice Clu's arm had flopped down off the couch in his sleep to land on top of Tron's head, and the second time the small silvery-gray bit model had slipped from Clu's grasp and fallen down onto Tron's shoulder...but through it all, Tron hadn't even moved a muscle and had simply slept right on, completely oblivious.

A few feet away across the small room, Alan was sleeping just as deeply, still in the same position he'd been in for hours, curled on his side crossways along the foot of the bed.  
>Kevin's tall form was still draped across the head of the bed, feet hanging off the edge, but he'd somehow pulled the top end of the bedspread loose from where it had been tucked over the pillows, and then wrapped himself up in it in his sleep.<p>

From the far corner of the quiet room came a very faint, muffled, repetitive beeping sound. It was Alan's pager, still inside the pocket of Kevin's riding jacket where it had been since they'd found it at the Grid's arcade simulation. Now the jacket was crumpled in a heap on the floor, and Kevin's boots lay where they'd landed on top of it, so the sound was barely audible. The faint beeping went on for several seconds, and then stopped.  
>But no one even stirred.<p>

Except Clu.  
>He shifted slightly, turning his head fitfully in his sleep as a barrage of images began to play behind his closed eyelids.<br>Unaware that he was dreaming, and unaware of what a dream even was to begin with, he was completely taken in by the imagery...from his perspective there was no differentiating between what he was seeing and what was actual reality.

_The arena resounded with the usual thronging cheers from the crowd, and Clu could hear Jarvis' voice announcing the games, but it was only an echo...he couldn't quite discern the words being spoken._  
><em>He also couldn't quite tell what the crowd was chanting, though they were repeating the name over and over. He knew it wasn't 'Rinzler'. And that alone perplexed him, until he saw the combatants enter the disk cage, which perplexed him far more. He sat forward in his chair.<em>

_One of the combatants was the petite female ISO. Then he realized it was her name they were chanting...Quor-ra!... Quor-ra!... Quor-ra!..._

_The other combatant, was him._

_Which was impossible, because he was sitting in his chair._  
><em>But it certainly looked like him.<em>  
><em>He was wearing his usual yellow-illumined armored suit, and for some reason, not wearing a helmet.<em>  
><em>Which is how he knew it was him...he could see his face. It was the same face of Kevin Flynn. But he knew it wasn't Flynn, it was him.<em>  
><em>And he didn't know just how he knew that, only that he knew it with certainty.<em>

_That too disturbed him - he was the system admin and a logic-based control program, therefore he should know and recall exactly why he knew every bit of information he knew._  
><em>But though he couldn't recall how or why he knew this, there was no question - he just knew the combatant was him, which was truly bizarre, since he was also sitting there on his throne in the observation deck of his ship.<em>  
><em>And there as he sat, his circuits teemed with unrest, watching as the contest began.<em>

_But it seemed there was no contest...the ISO's skills far exceeded his, and she was lightning-fast, incredibly agile, and ruthless._  
><em>Within only a few nanocycles she had torn much of his armor to shreds, derezzing strips of it with relentless, mocking, whips of her razor-sharp disk.<em>  
><em>Each blow seemed bent on reminding him that she could and would destroy him, but also that she was content to do so at her leisure.<em>  
><em>First she derezzed the front of his suit, laying his chest almost bare beneath the shreds of pixelated armor, and then she scarred his face, whisking the edge of the disk up and across his cheek, then across his face to the other side, just enough to disfigure him horribly but not to derezz him completely.<em>

_He stood up from the chair, reeling in shock and confusion as he watched this happen, then suddenly feeling the sting on his cheek he brought a gloved hand to his face, only to draw back bits of pixels which stuck to his glove before dissolving into thin air._

_He froze in disbelief – this could not possibly be happening. It defied all logic._  
><em>But before he could begin to calculate the why's of any of it, a horrific sight froze him the rest of the way - the ISO crouched into the beginnings of Rinzler's most deadly parkour move, and then time itself seemed to slow to a crawl as she went whirling up and into the air in slow-motion, sending the disk flying right into her opponent – him – and shattering his existence into a thousand tiny pixels.<em>

_He stood gaping in disbelief at the combat arena, as a new and unfamiliar feeling began to crawl over him – complete terror. He looked down at his suit and robes, already knowing what he would see, and sure enough he was beginning to very slowly dissolve into pixels as he stood there in front of his throne. _

_And all he could do was scream, "NO!"_  
><em>But no sound would come out of his mouth.<em>  
><em>So he tried screaming again, and again, and again, yet still no scream would come.<br>When he raised what was left of his pixelating gloved hand to his face, he realized why - he had no mouth. She had taken it, with her disk...  
><em>

Clu suddenly jolted awake and sat upright, his eyes wide and his chest heaving with panicked breaths.  
>Much to his surprise, he wasn't in the arena.<br>He was in the small room above the arcade, where they'd all gone to rest before he'd somehow ended up back in the arena.  
>And everyone in the room was in the same spot where they'd been before, but now they were all awake and staring at him.<p>

Tron sat on the floor nearby, blinking his eyes and looking at him with growing alarm.  
>Quorra and Sam were just waking and staring at him in confusion from the other couch.<br>Across the room, Alan had leaned up to rest onto one arm and was squinting in his direction, unable to see much without his glasses.

Kevin was untangling himself from the bedspread and then was on his feet in an instant, jumping up and bounding over to Clu, hair completely disheveled and eyes bleary from sleep.  
>He crouched down beside the couch and spoke, his voice slightly husky.<p>

"_Clu,...What is it?... What's wrong buddy?..." _

Clu stared at his Creator with eyes as big as saucers, his chest still heaving with frantic breaths, strands of hair hanging wildly into his face.  
>Then he looked around the room.<br>Everyone else stared back at him quizzically.  
>Except for Kevin, who just looked at him with gentle, concerned eyes and then reached out to pat his arm as he spoke, <em>"You okay?..."<em>

Then Clu stared at his own arm where Kevin had patted it. His arm! It was still there!  
>He looked down at his chest – it was still there too! So were his legs! Feet! Hands!<br>Then he brought his hands to his face to feel all around his cheeks, chin, mouth – yes! He had a mouth again!  
>He exhaled in extreme relief, though his eyes were still wide and now his brow was furrowed with gathering confusion.<br>This was truly bizarre, but apparently he'd recovered and somehow re-rezzed.  
>Or maybe he'd been re-written? And somehow had gotten back to the User world?<br>He didn't even remember going to the Grid again, but thank User he'd ended up back here once more.

Kevin frowned, then tilted his head slightly, still looking at Clu with concern.  
>Clu stared back at him, then cleared his throat and tried to speak. To his relief, his voice worked again. It sounded slightly husky like Kevin's, but it worked again. <em>"How...long was I gone?"<em>

Kevin's eyebrows launched upward, then he blinked, eyes squinting as he looked back at his young doppelganger with slight confusion. _"Wh-...gone?..." _

Clu nodded, raking his hair back from his face with a shaky hand.  
>And then he stared at his hand just to make sure no pixels were missing.<p>

Kevin still looked at him with mild alarm, trying to blink himself more fully awake in the glare of the light from the lamp beside the couch.

_"You,...you weren't... gone... anywhere, buddy. You were asleep..."_ Kevin paused, raking his hair back from his face with his hand, _"...at least,...you were,...till you started screaming. 'Think that's probably what woke you up - 'sure woke me."_

Clu shook his head, eyes widening and voice urgent. _"No, but...that's just it - I couldn't scream. I tried. I didn't have a mouth. And,...I was derezzing, because-...she-...she was-"_

He stopped speaking, glancing across at Quorra, who just blinked sleepily, looked at him with innocent, wide eyes, and yawned.  
>Suddenly Clu felt very confused.<br>Beside Quorra, Sam was yawning and trying not to grin. Clu glared at him. He didn't see what could possibly be amusing about this.  
>He felt even more more confused and he looked back at his Creator.<br>Kevin's eyes softened with understanding, and he spoke in a gentle tone, his voice still husky.

"_Clu,...buddy,...think you just had a nightmare. A bad dream. It wasn't real." _

Clu frowned and looked at him like he had six heads.  
>But Kevin just nodded again, eyes sympathetic.<p>

_"Yeah. It was just a bad dream. We all have 'em occasionally - Users, I mean. And now, you're a User too,...kinda..."_

Kevin paused, shrugging and running a hand through his messy hair again before continuing. "..._well, yeah,...'guess you are a User now. So, makes sense. Bummer you had a gnarly dream your first night here, though. But,...like I said, we've all had 'em..."_

Clu's eyes narrowed and he looked at Kevin skeptically.  
>But Kevin just nodded once again, then looked over at Quorra. <em>"...bet you've had one since you've been here, right Q?...or at least some kinda' dream, whether it was good or bad?"<em>

Quorra nodded, her eyes shifting from Kevin to Clu.  
>Clu's eyes widened as he looked at her. <em>"You've experienced this too?"<em>

She nodded again, bashfully, gave a very subtle shrug, then mustered a soft polite smile.  
>This seemed to settle Clu somewhat, and he sat processing the news, but then he frowned again and looked back at Kevin.<p>

_"It's just... horrifically confusing. Frighteningly realistic. Definitely unpleasant. What- ...what causes this?"_

Kevin took a deep breath and sighed, giving a speculative frown.

"_Well,...Clu,...the mind works in funny ways. Dreams are what happens when your mind sorts through all kinds of thoughts in random order...then shows you images to represent them." _

Clu's brow remained furrowed.  
>His discomfort was completely unassuaged by this explanation, and he continued to stare at Kevin, frustration and anger mounting in his voice.<p>

_"How completely erroneous! What's the point of that? There's no logic in it, Kevin!"_

Kevin just sighed, patting Clu on the shoulder again as he stood up slowly.

"_Well,...buddy,...I know. And we can talk more about that,...we sure can. But, right now, 'kinda wanna' get a little more rest first. Think we all probably do. But,... bottom line is, dreams are normal, you're fine, and we're all right here with ya. So, why don't you go back to sleep for a little while,... okay?..."_

Clu immediately shook his head, frowning, his expression resolute. _"No. Not a chance. And have that happen again? Definitely not." _He crossed his arms stubbornly. _"No. I'm staying awake."_

With a slight chuckle, Kevin glanced at Sam, the corners of his mouth hitching into a knowing grin which he tried to suppress...Sam had said almost those exact same words to him once, as a very small child. Then he looked back at Clu again, sighed, and nodded.

"_Well,...alright buddy. Suit yourself. But, I'm going back to sleep. You should try to, too. I'm gonna' turn off this lamp. That'll make it a little easier to rest, okay?..."_

Clu just blinked up at him, not quite understanding why the absence of lamp-light should make a difference, but then he finally mustered a fraction of a nod.  
>Kevin smiled at him, clicked off the lamp's switch, then turned and shuffled softly across towards the bed.<br>With a yawn he flopped down across the head of the bed in the same spot as before.

After a few seconds, Alan's voice broke the silence, as he turned over, raised up on his elbows, and spoke with a smirk in Kevin's direction. _"Dad?...can I have a glass of water?"_

Kevin immediately pelted him with a pillow.

From across the room, Sam spluttered and then broke out into soft laughter, until Quorra giggled, shushing him and elbowing him gently in the ribs.

Then the room settled to silence once again.

In the newly-darkened room, Clu just sat there on the couch, still uneasy, a thousand questions racing around in his thoughts.  
>Once his vision slowly adjusted to the lack of light he felt a bit more at ease, because then he could more clearly see things, though shadows prevailed.<br>He looked around in the quiet. It seemed everyone else in the room except for him had closed their eyes and was resting in sleep-mode again.  
>But he was still stubbornly refusing to.<br>Instead he just leaned back down onto the couch again and stared up at the ceiling, fighting sleep for as long as he could.

Until finally sleep won, as slowly his eyelids closed. Within moments he was soundly asleep again.

: : :

Alan drifted somewhat to wakefulness.  
>He thought he heard a very familiar voice softly calling his name in almost a whisper.<br>There it was again.

"Alan?..."

He half-smiled in his sleep, chuckling in his thoughts.  
><em>...that's funny...<br>...it sounds like me talking to me..._

For some reason this was amusing, yet some part of him understood whose voice it was.  
>He tried to wake himself, managing only to respond with a mumbled hum from behind closed eyes.<p>

_"Hm."_

"_Alan."_

"_Hm?"_

"_ALAN!..."_

"_Huh-...what?" _His eyes flashed open and he flinched awake.

In the mostly-darkened room, he saw a blurry silhouette of someone standing over him.  
>From across the bed, he heard Kevin's soft snoring.<br>Startled and disoriented, he immediately reached down to the floor, feeling around for his glasses, and then somehow managed to get them onto his face.  
>Then he could barely discern the very familiar features which had always stared back at him from the mirror. Only this version didn't have gray hair.<br>He raised up on his elbows and answered in a sleepy whisper.

"_...Tron?..."_

The silhouette nodded, then crouched down beside the foot of the bed.  
>His own voice whispered back at him again as Tron spoke, stammering apologetically.<p>

"_You...told me to just call you 'Alan'...I'm sorry, for waking you...but,..."_

Alan blinked, his eyes adjusting to the dim light which filtered in through the window overlooking the arcade, not quite sure why his former program had woken him up. But he had a hunch Tron wouldn't have awakened him without a very good reason. He blinked up at his younger self. _"What is it?"_

Tron turned his head quickly, nodding towards the window, then looked back towards Alan. _"Something outside. I didn't want to alarm the others."_

Though he wasn't quite fully awake yet, this brought Alan quickly to a sitting position and then to his feet, almost losing his balance as he stood.  
>He shuffled closer to the corner couches where Clu, Quorra and Sam were all sleeping, and then peered out of the picture window through the open blinds, looking at the arcade below.<br>The first light of morning was spreading through through the arcade's front windows, sunlight beaming across the plastic dust-covers on several of the game machines. He squinted and blinked, unable to see anything which looked out of the ordinary.  
>He looked back at Tron, confused, and whispered. <em>"I don't understand,...what- " <em>

But before he could finish, Tron's urgent whispered voice interrupted as he pointed towards the light which flooded in small refracted beams through the arcade's windows.

"_Recognizer. I'm almost certain of it."_

The word made Clu stir, and then he sat up on the couch, his voice gruff from sleep. _"Recognizer?..."_

"_Shh!"_ Tron immediately hushed Clu.

Alan rolled his eyes and sighed. These two programs-turned-human were going to be a handful.  
>He whispered back to Tron, trying his best not to wake the others in the room.<p>

"_I can assure you, it's not a Recognizer. We don't have those here."_

Both Tron and Clu remained silent, but Alan could tell they were still definitely alarmed and now confused.  
>Stepping away from the couches, he shuffled over and slipped his feet into the loafers which were on the floor at the foot of the bed.<br>Then he turned, motioning for Tron and Clu to follow, and he tiptoed towards the stairs.  
>Tron followed Alan towards the stairwell, and Clu stood up from the couch, slowly making his way across the room behind them.<p>

Once downstairs in the arcade, both programs walked along behind Alan, staring around at the room full of slip-covered machines before returning a worried gaze to the light-flooded windows.  
>Tron's brow furrowed in slight alarm as he watched his User unlock the door, open it, peek his head out to look around, then step right outside into the light.<br>Then Alan smiled, squinting in the gathering glow and spreading his arms.

"_This is sunlight. Harmless. At least, in moderate amounts of exposure."_

Tron followed him outside, somewhat hesitantly. Then he stood turning around and around in the light, staring in complete fascination at the sky, then at the street around them, after which Clu followed suit, staring in equal fascination. Smiling, Tron cast his gaze all around at the amber glow which lit up the graffiti-covered buildings, and then finally looked back at his User.

_"This...is the most magnificent thing I've ever seen."_

Alan couldn't help but chuckle.  
>He grinned, shaking his head. He'd never witnessed quite that sort of reaction to an abandoned, run-down urban street.<p>

"_Tron, my friend, this is hardly the most impressive landscape to see in this world. But,... yes, sunlight is magnificent."_

Clu raised his head, feeling the slight warmth which spread across his face with the light.  
>Kevin had often spoken of the User world, and Clu had he'd uploaded all the data he could about it in hopes of one day seeing it.<br>He'd known the sun existed in theory, but experiencing now it in reality was quite a different matter. He blinked in the warm sunlight and turned to Alan. _"How long does it last?"_

Alan shrugged. _"Depending on the season,...about twelve to fourteen hours."_

Clu thought for a moment, running the calculations in his head. _"Approximately one-point-seven-eight millicycles."_  
>He nodded, looking at the sky again, recalling the cycles of day and night that Kevin had mentioned. <em>"..and then it returns again in roughly the same?"<em>

Alan nodded. _"More or less. A day here lasts for twenty four hours,...has both sunlight – which we call 'daytime',... and darkness – which we call 'night-time'...before it repeats all over again as another day." _

Clu gave a slight tilt of his head, then a slight nod. _"A day is three millicycles long. Sunlight-...daytime,... lasts for one-point-seven-eight millicycles,...so,...night-time is...one-point-two-two of a millicycle." _

Alan gave a smirky grin. _"Sounds like you got that worked out pretty well. So,...let's go back indoors, shall we?"  
><em>He turned back towards the door of the arcade and walked a few steps, only to look up and see Quorra and Sam walking out the door to greet them.

Sam blinked, sleepy-eyed in the sunlight, nodding at Alan with his usual half-grin. _"Morning."_

Quorra gave Alan a grin, then walked a few slow steps farther, stopping to stand beside Tron and Clu.  
>Tron gave her a slight smile.<br>Clu tried to do the same, but it seemed more of an anxious expression than a smile.  
>He had no idea at all how to behave around her now, especially after the strange experience which Kevin called "a bad dream."<br>But as he watched the ISO, strangely enough his uneasiness began to melt away when she looked up at the sky and then stood right in the first rays of amber sunlight which peered over the horizon, closing her eyes and grinning.  
>Her grin turned into a full smile and she opened her large eyes to look right at Clu as she spoke.<p>

_"It is wonderful, isn't it?...the sun?"_

At first Clu could only nod awkwardly, but it seemed there was no way to look at her smile and not at least grin himself, partly because he had never seen her smile before.  
>And she seemed so friendly to him all of a sudden. He didn't quite know what to make of it. So he just gave a grin in return, nodding his head again in agreement.<p>

Still smiling, Quorra slowly turned to walk back towards the door of the arcade where Sam and Alan stood talking.  
>Clu watched her walk away, then he stepped closer to Tron and spoke in a somewhat hushed tone, still looking back in Quorra's direction. <em>"She was...friendly to me." <em>

Tron tilted his head very slightly, and gave a small shrug. _"Yes. So?"_

Clu looked at his fellow program and quirked his brow, seeming genuinely puzzled. He stepped closer and spoke again, his voice even more quiet. _"Do you suppose...she was being flirtatious?"_

Tron's surprised look turned to a slight frown, and then a smirk. He sighed, leaned in closer to Clu, and raised his eyebrow, scolding gently. _"Don't flatter yourself. She was just being nice."_

Caught off-guard, Clu looked back at him with a slight frown, but the corners of his mouth fought back a grin.  
>He found it amusing and pleasant that the same old sparring camaraderie he and Tron had once shared so very long ago had now returned.<br>He gave a slightly dismissive tilt of his head at Tron's remark, then glanced back in Quorra's direction.

The two programs watched as Quorra leaned in to stand very close to Sam while he spoke with Alan, and Sam turned slightly in her direction...though neither showed affection outright, it was obvious from their body language that they were smitten with each other.

Tron's voice continued in the hushed tone._ "Besides,...as you can see, she's quite spoken for." _

Now it was Clu's turn to smirk, and he replied in hushed tones with slight indignance. _"Well I wasn't suggesting THAT..."_ Even spoken at a quiet volume, his voice still pitched upward on the last word with a slight drawl, sounding just like Kevin's.

Tron suppressed a chuckle, and continued chiding him with a mostly straight face. _"Of course not."_

Clu just looked at him, eyes narrowing, and replied more insistently, in the same soft tone of voice. _"Well,...I wasn't."_

Tron's brows raised, and he simply nodded mutely with a soft smile.

Which infuriated Clu and made his eyes narrow even more.  
>He fumed quietly next to Tron, until Quorra glanced over at them, and then he gave a small polite smile.<br>Then Tron stepped forward, walking over to join the others, and Clu followed, clasping his hands behind his back and strolling slowly, in his best attempt to appear nonchalant.

Sam turned to Tron as he approached, hitching his thumb to gesture back at Alan.

_ "Hey,...I'm gonna take your User here on a little expedition. We have to go get his car."_

Tron's head tilted slightly at the comment.  
>Alan regarded his former program with a raised brow, knowing Tron had no idea what a car was. Then he grinned and gave a slight nod, explaining. <em>"It's like a light-cycle,... only it's four-wheeled, and hugely inefficient by comparison. And, it doesn't light up...well, not nearly as much." <em>

Tron looked at him oddly, seeming no less confused after that explanation, so Alan just gave him a slight grin and patted his shoulder.

"_You'll see. We'll be back soon. And, I'll bring you a pair of my glasses." _

This made Tron smile, and he gave a slight nod.  
>Alan turned to Sam, raising his eyebrows. <em>"Ready?"<em>

Sam nodded, and then turned to Quorra. _"After we get his car I need to stop by my-...our place and feed Marv. We'll both meet you all back here, figure out what to do next."_

She nodded, then gestured back towards the arcade. _"What about your father? Should I wake him and tell him?"_

Sam shook his head. _"No way. Let him get some sleep. He's earned it...he's probably exhausted."_

Quorra nodded, and then she stepped close to Sam, wrapping her arms around his neck for a hug. He grinned, holding her tightly, and then stepped back to look at her. _"You've got your cell,...so, ...you need me, you call me,... alright?" _

Quorra nodded and gave a soft smile, then turned and opened the door of the arcade.

Sam looked over at Tron, dipping his chin and raising an eyebrow, his eyes more serious._ "Watch after my dad and Quorra, man. Please."_

He glanced at Clu, then back at Tron, and they both gave a solemn nod in reply.  
>Then he turned to walk towards the bike, but stopped after a few steps and turned back around, nodded his head towards the arcade door. <em>"Hey, keep that door locked. Stay inside until we get back, okay? It's really important. "<em>

"_We will, Sam Fl-...Sam."_ Tron replied.

Sam looked at Tron and Clu for a moment more, then just nodded and continued towards the bike.

Alan stood beside the old Ducati, watching as Sam approached. He shook his head, and looked back at the bike with a chuckle. _"Can't believe I finally agreed to go for a ride on this old thing."_

Sam grinned, unlocking the cable which secured the helmets to the handlebars. _"Hey, next step I'm gonna teach you to drive it."_

Alan gave a wry grin and shrugged. _"Hm. Can't be much tougher than driving a lightcycle. 'Did alright with that."_

Sam's jaw dropped and his eyebrows raised as he looked at his guardian. _"Seriously? You rode a lightcycle?"_

Alan nodded smugly, then gave a slight grin.  
>Sam broke into a full smile and laughed, his eyebrows still raised. <em>"Well, rock it, Alan!"<em>

Still smiling, Sam handed him the helmet, then donned his own, fastening the strap around his chin. He hopped on the bike, then nodded at Alan, who climbed on behind him.  
>Just as Sam started the engine, Alan tapped him on the shoulder. <em>"Hey, go easy on me. No stunts."<em>

Sam chuckled and grinned, revving the throttle slightly. _"Now when have you ever known me to try any stunts, Alan?"_

Alan just rolled his eyes, and held on as they took off slowly down the street.


	3. Chapter 3

Los Angeles  
>Flynn's Arcade, upstairs loft<p>

* * *

><p>He'd been dreaming...first images of the Grid, which then transitioned to the games in the arcade, and one of them was beeping.<br>He was unable to figure out which one, so he walked from game to game, again and again, around and around the room, stopping, listening, seeking the source of that faint, high-pitched intermittent tone which was barely audible and infuriatingly persistent.  
>None of the games should be making that sound. Then he gave up and stood in the middle of the arcade, perplexed, frustrated, staring at the ceiling, closing his eyes, listening.<p>

Kevin opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling again, which had apparently changed to a blurry field of pastel peachy orange with very faint flowers on it.

No, that was the bedspread.  
>It was covering his face.<p>

He yawned, sighed, and then began trying to extricate himself from the copious miles of quilted cotton which covered him from head to toe like a cocoon and wrapped all the way underneath him.  
><em>...man!...<br>….how is it I manage to do this every time I lay down on a bed?..._

Finally he got his arms free, and peeked his head out, yawning again and stretching, and then sitting up on his elbows. The muscles in his neck and shoulders complained, but not as badly as the muscles in his back when he sat up all the way.  
><em>...oh, holy God,...<br>...why am I so stiff and achy?...  
>...maybe because I'm old now...<br>...yeah, Flynn,...ya think?..._

This was a wholly new sensation, and one he hadn't experienced on the Grid.  
>He decided to sit there a moment, and slowly ease himself into the concept of being awake.<br>However, it was then that he realized something was still beeping, a high-pitched annoying little sound, and it was the same one from his dream.  
>He decided to ignore it and sit there stretching instead.<br>Which lasted all of five seconds.  
><em>...man,...what the-..what IS that?...<em>

He looked around the room barely awake and blinking. The digital clock was flashing 12:00. The microwave oven wasn't even plugged in.  
>He sighed, and climbed off the bed, slowly bending over to stretch his back and legs, and then he heard the beeping more loudly, emanating from the corner.<br>_...aha...something over here..._

But nothing was in the corner except his jacket, boots, and socks, all piled in a heap.  
>He sighed and scratched his head, raking his disheveled hair back and then grabbing for the boots. No, they definitely weren't beeping. He tossed them across the carpet, along with his socks.<br>Then he picked up his jacket, and there was the source. Jolting more to wakefulness, he suddenly remembered.  
><em>...the pager...the pocket...<br>...yeah, but why's it going off?..._

He reached into the pocket and there it was. He looked at the screen.  
>Sam's number read across it. He pressed the button on the side, and the beeping stopped.<br>_...why's he paging me now?...  
>...no, guess it must have somehow re-sent after we rezzed back here?...<br>...yeah, probably it..._

He yawned again, tossing the pager on the bed, along with the jacket. He had no idea what time it was. The sun was definitely up, and he heard faint voices down in the arcade. He padded with bare feet over to the window, leabing over the couch and looking down into the expansive room below. It was full of machines, most of them with dust-covers on them, and he could see Tron and Quorra standing at one of the uncovered game machines, pointing at the graphics which flashed on the screen and talking. Clu was a few machines over, raising up the dust-cover.

Kevin leaned back away from the window to stand, and chuckled softly to himself.  
><em>...can't believe those old things are still going...<br>...that's pretty rad..._

Grabbing his socks and boots, he shuffled over to the curved, modular couch and plopped down.  
>Something immediately beeped, with a strange muffled, electronic <em>"ploink-ploink"<em> sound.  
><em>...okay...that's weird...<br>...must be one of the games downstairs..._

Bringing his leg up to rest across his other knee, he began shinnying his sock onto his foot, and then leaned back slightly, only to hear the _electronic "ploink-ploink"_ sound again.  
>And this time he felt something solid behind his hip, which definitely wasn't a soft couch cushion. It felt more like a rock.<br>He shifted forward, reaching back behind him, and retrieved the small silvery bit model.  
>But this one wasn't the bit model he'd given Clu.<br>It was slightly larger, and had a tiny recessed linear crevice like an equator, which branched out into more tiny linear crevices in between several of its polyhedryl planes.

He stared at it. He didn't recall having a model like this one, and wasn't quite sure how it got here. Maybe this was what the bit model he'd given Clu looked like after it rezzed into the real world? That didn't quite seem right either – why would it's form change to something more complex?  
>He turned it over in his hands, and then happened to press one of the faceted planes.<br>The bit model went _"ploink-ploink"_. His eyebrows shot upward, and he chuckled in surprise.  
>He pressed the plane again, and the bit went <em>"zzhwonk".<em>  
>One more press and it went <em>"ploink-ploink"<em> again.

He chuckled again, staring at it. He pressed it a few more times, getting a random order of sounds in reply. He decided the _"ploink-ploink" _sound must mean_ 'yes' _and the_ "zzhwonk" so_und was 'no'_._

He laughed, and mused to himself out loud, _"Rad!...the Grid's equivalent of a Magic 8-Ball toy..."_

He was about to think of a question to ask it, when he heard footsteps on the stairs, and soon Clu was stepping up into the loft. He gave a cheerful grin at the sight of his creator.

_"Hello, Kevin! You're out of sleep-mode now..."_

Kevin grinned and nodded. _"Yep,...must've slept a few good hours at least. Feels like I slept a ye-...a cycle."_

Clu chuckled at the reference.  
>Then Kevin held up the bit model, and Clu's brows immediately raised. <em>"There it is! I took it out of my jacket pocket before I went into sleep-mode, and must have dropped it."<em>

Kevin grinned. _"Yeah?...well check this out..."_ He pressed the plane and the bit model made the _"zzhwonk" _sound.

Clu's eyes widened, and he grinned. _"What?...How did you make..."_ His voice trailed off and he walked closer, eyes narrowing in curiosity as he stared at the bit model.

Kevin shook his head, grinning. _"I didn't make it, man. It just happened, when we rezzed in, I guess. I accidentally sat on it, and that's when I found out it made a sound."_

He handed the bit model to Clu, who inspected it, fascinated. _"I didn't really get a good look at it before..."_  
>He pressed several planes, until he found the one that depressed and made the sound.<br>This time the bit went "_ploink-ploink"._

Clu looked at Kevin, and grinned ear to ear, then laughed.

Kevin sat back, chuckling too. _ "Yeah, I think that's its way of saying 'yes'...and the other sound is the 'no'...or maybe vice-versa. It does it in random order."_

Clu stood pressing the plane several more times, and got two _"ploink-ploinks" and four "zzhwonk's"_

"_There must be some order to it,..." _Clu pressed the plane repeatedly, listening to which sound it chose each time.

Kevin looked at Clu, wondering how many more dozens of times he was going to doggedly press the plane trying to discern a pattern of order amidst the chaos, then he finally sighed and grinned, holding out his open palm. _"Here, let me try..."_

Clu handed him the bit, and Kevin asked it, _"Is Clu going to drive me up the wall with you, bit?"_

He pressed the plane... _"ploink-ploink"_ . And then he smirked, nodded, grinned, and handed it back to Clu, chuckling.

"_See? It said yes. Sounds about right."_Kevin chuckled again, and began putting on his other sock.

Clu kept pressing the plane repeatedly and listening, until Kevin gave him a look, and then he stopped, looking a bit self-conscious.  
>Then he held the bit up to the light which filtered in through the window. <em>"It's just really amusing, and, fascinating – this is what becomes of a bit from the Grid."<em>

Kevin reached for his boots._ "Well, it wasn't ever a real bit, just a solid model I rezzed. Had it on my mantel for quite a few cycles. Never made a peep."_

Clu shook his head slightly. _"Oh, no, this isn't that one...Tron has that one. This one was in my other pocket...I put it there when I found Alan. It was a real bit. It had been floating around and annoying him, and then it decided to annoy me."_

He pressed the plane again several times. Kevin sighed, listening to the noises repeat. He raised an eyebrow sardonically.

"_Can't imagine that thing ever being annoying."_

Clu looked up again, then made a sheepish face and shrugged. _"Oh. Sorry."_ He put the bit into his pocket, and sat down on the other side of the couch.

Kevin just chuckled again, and continued putting on his boots. _"...'s alright, man. 'Don't blame ya...it's pretty cool."_

* * *

><p>The front door to the arcade opened, and Sam and Quorra came walking in. Alan was right behind them. He glanced at the shiny new deadbolt as Sam locked the door.<p>

"_Glad you did that...the old one was really irritating." _

Sam nodded, a hint of seriousness passing across his eyes. _"Yeah. Figured I should, all things considered. Need to get you and dad a key to it, though."_

Alan gave a slight shrug, _"No rush...we can get that done in the next day or two... "_ his voice trailed off as he looked up at the loft window, hearing Kevin's voice filtering down from upstairs, and he smiled. He still couldn't believe his old friend was back after all this time.

A few seconds later, Kevin came walking around the doorway from the stairwell, a half-eaten slice of pizza in his hand. He took a bite, then grinned when he looked up and saw Alan.

Alan chuckled and shook his head. _"You eating cold pizza for breakfast...that's something I never thought I'd see."_

Sam chuckled under his breath, walking past them and heading up to the loft.

Kevin nodded as he finished chewing the bite, then swallowed and pointed at what was left of the slice, a grin on his face. _"Hey, breakfast of champions, man. Best pizza I've ever had, too. I was starving."_  
>He glanced up towards the loft. <em>"...besides,...it's not cold...microwave still works. And hey, there's plenty more up there."<em>

Alan's eyebrow raised, and his eyes narrowed speculatively. He looked at his watch. Kevin knew he was considering it. He waved dismissively and nodded back towards the loft. _"Oh, go on Alan. You've never turned pizza down a day in your life."_

Alan smirked. _"Well,... you're right, there. But it's only nine thirty..."_ and then he shrugged and started across the arcade towards the stairwell. _"...oh what the hell."_

"_That's the spirit..."_ Kevin took another bite of the pizza, chewed, and then called back to Alan. _"So, nine thirty huh. What day is it?..."_

"_Sunday..."_ Alan called back. Then he stopped and looked at his watch. _"...December twelfth."_

Kevin nodded. _"...what year?"_

Alan stopped, turning around, and he couldn't help but chuckle. It was the kind of question one rarely got asked. In fact, no one had ever asked him that before. Under the circumstances, it made perfect sense. He gave a wry grin. _"2010."_

Kevin's eyebrows raised. _"Huh. Time does fly..."_ then he glanced at Alan, and the look on his face was a sort of detached amusement, as though it were someone else's life he were talking about.

"...I'll be fifty-three in six days."

Alan gave a slight nod, and a smirk. _"Yeah?...Boo-hoo. I'll be sixty-one, this coming May..."_ and then he stopped, raising an eyebrow and grinning. _"...wait – in six __days?...that's right! ...the eighteenth!...well then we're just in time to have one heck of a birthday celebration for you, my friend." _

Kevin chuckled, and gave him a wary look._ "Yeah?...'last time we did that I talked to a lamp-post for five minutes and then almost got us beaten up in some dive..."_

Alan laughed, thinking back,and gave a cynical smirk as he nodded._ "Oh,...I remember. As I recall I was the reason we made it out of there alive. Had to do some fast talking to cool that guy's jets."_

Kevin pointed at him, still chuckling._ "Hey, ...you were the reason I smarted off to him in the first place."_

Alan shook his head, laughing and pointing back with a smirky grin. _"Whoa, no,... now wait a minute,...you're not putting that on me. Just because I made a comment about his manners did not mean you had to turn around and repeat it to him."_

Kevin burst out laughing, and clapped his hands. _"Yeah,...'suppose your right. But man, it was so true. And, the look on his face...it was worth it."_

Alan shook his head again, still chuckling. Then he raised an eyebrow and sighed. _"Second thought,...maybe a quiet little birthday dinner at home would be safer."_

Kevin gave a slight wave of his hand. _"Oh relax Alan,...besides, man, I'm not the same cocky guy I used to be. And kinda think my days of reckless abandon are well behind me anyway. By about two decades." _

Alan nodded, still smirking skeptically, and the two chuckled for a few moments at the memory. Then Kevin shrugged and gave a small smile, his eyes softening. _"But you know,...a birthday dinner at home would be really good...all of us...just, bein' together."_

Alan smiled too, nodding slowly and meeting his old friend's gaze. _"You got it."_ Then he turned around and walked back towards the stairwell.

* * *

><p>Traffic was unusually heavy for a Sunday. Alan sighed, pulling a car to a stop behind a line of cars waiting to exit the freeway.<p>

_"Probably a wreck or a stall somewhere. Hope it clears soon, or at this rate it will take us an hour to get from here to my house - which is maybe a mile away. "_

Kevin wasn't quite listening. He was still staring at all the vehicles around them, unable to get over just how much automobile design had changed over the past twenty years.  
>Just then, Sam breezed past them from in between the two lanes, with Quorra on the back of the Ducati, and then they went riding right up the exit lane, veering over in front of the first car in line just in time to turn left when the light changed. Kevin's eyebrows raised, then he frowned slightly and looked at Alan.<p>

"_Does he do that all the time?..."_

Alan smirked and just shook his head. _"Only when he's on the bike. Haven't seen him do it on foot yet."_

Kevin exhaled and frowned. _"Man,... splittin' lanes on this road?...even I wouldn't do that."_

Alan looked at him, raising an eyebrow and smirking. _"Right, papa Knievel,...because you'd have jumped the rail by now."_

Kevin gave a mock look of indignance, and was about to retort, when a soft electronic _"ploink-ploink"_ sound came from the back seat again. And then another. And then, a "_zzhwonk"._

Alan stifled a laugh. Not this again.

Kevin sighed. _"Hey, Clu?...buddy,...mind if I see that bit?..."_

Clu raised an eyebrow, and then slowly handed it over the front seat. Kevin took it, then very smoothly reached to tuck it into his jacket pocket. Alan eyed him without turning his head, knowing that if he did he would start laughing.

From the back seat, Tron turned to Clu, leaned over and spoke in a very low voice.

_"See?... I told you he was going to do that if you didn't stop."_

Clu shot him a glare, and then stared out the window, fuming. But Tron just shrugged, unfazed by Clu's glowering. _"Well, so next time listen to me."_

Kevin glanced at Alan. Both of them were having a tough time suppressing a laugh at this point. This was like having two kids in the back seat. Tron of course being the slightly older one.

Finally traffic moved just enough for them to make the light, and Alan turned onto the street, slowing down and then getting stuck in another line of cars.  
>Tron sat up, looking out the window, then pointed at a couple of teenagers who were sailing down the sidewalk fast on inline skates, darting in between groups of pedestrians.<br>Clu sat forward too, staring, admiring the expediency with which they zoomed effortlessly down the sidewalk navigating obstacles.

Tron's voice was excited and urgent. _"Those Users have wheels on their shoes! That's what we should have! Then we wouldn't have to wait! Maybe we can get them somewhere around here?..."_

Clu nodded enthusiastically in agreement.  
>Then the two programs looked at Alan and Kevin anxiously, as though they expected all of them to seriously consider abandoning the car and pursuing this strategy right then.<p>

Alan didn't want to laugh at his program, but he just couldn't help it. For some reason this was just funny, because Tron was so very serious about it. Alan spluttered, choking back laughter and then looking out the window. Kevin planted his face in his palm, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. In a moment he grinned at Alan. _"This one's yours, man..."_

Alan shot him a look, still suppressing laughter. _"Thanks Kev."_

Tron blinked, staring at both Users in the front seat with confusion. He didn't quite understand what they were chuckling at. He thought it was a terrific idea.

Alan cleared his throat, the smile still sneaking its way onto his face as he spoke.

"_Well,...Tron,...those are called skates – the shoes they're wearing. While that is a good suggestion,...uh,...we can't really leave the car right here. Besides,... it's not as easy as it looks to skate on those things. We'd have to practice quite a lot to get as good as they are."_

Kevin grinned, and crooned under his breath, _"Good job,... Alan."_

Clu glanced at Tron, and they both shrugged slightly, looking a bit smug. Then Tron proudly remarked, _"I bet we'd do better than you think."_

Kevin chuckled. _"Yeah,...you two might. But the two of us would end up in a hospital."_

Tron's brows furrowed and he quirked his head, giving a strange look. _"A hospital?...what is that?..."_

Kevin and Alan's minds both went to the same place at the same time.  
>They quickly glanced at each other, suppressing laughter again.<br>Perhaps it was just the surreality of the whole situation, or their already desperate need to laugh, or maybe it was the fact that they'd never before been presented with such a nearly perfect intro to a line from one of the silliest and yet most memorable comedy films they'd ever seen together back in the day..._Airplane. What else._  
>But for whatever reason they both got the same thought, and, it just had to be said.<p>

Alan only managed to get the first few words out shakily, _ "It's... a big building,...with...lots of patients..." _before they both just finally burst into fits of laughter, howling in the front seat until each had tears in their eyes.

Tron and Clu stared at them, completely baffled and dumbfounded. Then they looked at each other with the same expression.  
>At least this was one thing the two of them agreed upon - there was certainly a whole realm of bizarre User behavior which they didn't at all understand.<br>Like for instance, the loud persistent beeping noise coming from the User vehicle behind them, and from the one behind that one, with the User who was yelling _"Hey!" _followed by some indeterminate exclamation.

Alan looked up quickly, stifling his laughter somewhat and giving a sheepish expression when he heard the honking, then saw that the light had changed to green and traffic had moved ahead. Some driver was yelling irately. He threw the car into gear and drove forward, giving Flynn a smirk and a shrug. Ordinarily this would have infuriated him and elicited a scowl, yet instead he was chuckling under his breath. He didn't know what it was, but just being around Flynn always seemed to make him automatically just a little more carefree.

Kevin looked out the window, filled with nostalgic remembrance as they turned into the familiar subdivision.  
>Whereas so much in the world had changed during his two decades on the Grid, this hadn't.<br>The neighborhood looked the same.  
>The street looked the same.<br>The lawn looked the same, except the grass had grown back over the spot where he'd worn it down to dirt by parking the Ducati there.  
>The house looked the same, aside from having been painted a different color.<p>

Alan pulled into the driveway, and Kevin looked at the house.  
>He recalled vividly the last time he'd been here...the night he'd come barreling up those steps and practically leaned on the doorbell, hardly able to wait for Alan to answer the door before he burst in and started going on and on about his discovery...<em>the miracle that was going to change everything and would turn everything as we know it onto its head.<em> For him, it did just that. The rest of the world went on without him. The miracle was that he was back now.

"_Well,...finally made it."_ Alan's voice jarred him back to the present moment.

With a wistful smile Kevin got out of the car, opening the back door for Clu while on the driver's side Alan was opening the door for Tron. Then they all four walked up the familiar stone walkway to the front door.


	4. Chapter 4

Los Angeles  
>Alan Bradley's residence<p>

* * *

><p>Alan poured a cup of fresh coffee from the pot, then handed it to Kevin, who smiled with raised eyebrows.<p>

"_Oh yeah. This'll work. Thanks, man." _

He closed his eyes, sniffing the steam which rose from the cup.  
>It was an aroma he hadn't enjoyed in twenty one years, and next to a strong cup of green tea it was one the things he'd missed the most while on the Grid. He paused, inhaling slowly and then exhaling just as slowly, then just stood there with his eyes closed.<p>

Alan watched him, inwardly chuckling. Of all the people he knew, only Kevin Flynn could possibly find a cup of his rather ordinary automatic-drip coffee to be a spiritual thing.  
>He grabbed the carton of Half &amp; Half from the fridge, placing it on the counter and sliding the sugar decanter over towards it. "<em>Dash of cream, two sugars."<em>

Kevin's eyes opened, and he raised an eyebrow. _"Good memory."_

"_Some things you just don't forget..."_ Alan turned and fished out a spoon from the various utensils laying on the drying rack, then he handed it to Kevin with a smirk,_ "...especially given as many cups of coffee as you finagled me into fetching for you over the years."_

Kevin quirked his brow, stirring the sugar into the coffee while a smug grin crept onto his face.

Just then they heard the Ducati roar up into the driveway outside.  
>Kevin ducked his head to peer out the window, watching as Sam pulled the bike to a stop right where he'd so often parked it himself so many years ago.<br>He chuckled, clinking the spoon against the cup and setting it down. _"Yep,...same spot. There goes the lawn, Alan."_

His old friend smiled, waving it off with a chuckle. _"Ah, well,...who needs grass there anyway. With Jet gone I have to mow it myself unless I want to pay someone to do it, so, that's one less spot to cut."_

Kevin took a sip of coffee and set down the cup, tilting his head.  
>Jethro Bradley. He'd be just about a year older than Sam now. <em>"How's he doin'?..."<em>

Alan shrugged and sighed, a touch of wistfulness crossing his eyes. _"Oh,...busy. Doctorate program, GWU, computer science. Thinks he wants to teach..."_ he paused, taking a deep breath and then exhaling, hands on hips, nodding. _"Yep,...went back to school. Oh, you missed his whole rebel-without-a-cause phase. Thank God we're past that. He was even more of a headache than Sam." _

Kevin chuckled, but his eyes grew more serious.  
>He watched through the window as his grown up son stood on the front walkway, talking on his cell phone.<br>Then he looked back at Alan. _"Sam was a handful, huh?...I'm sure..."_ his voice trailed off. He took a deep breath and started to speak again, then paused, brow furrowed.  
>Alan already knew what he was about to say. He gave a knowing look, and a small smile.<p>

"_Kevin,...it was a joy raising him - an honor. A challenge sometimes,...sure,...but then so was Jet. All kids are. Sam was a handful, no doubt, but it was to be expected...he missed you, that's all. He didn't understand, didn't know how to cope with it. Now he does."_

Kevin nodded, and gave a small wry smile, his eyes misting over.  
>He took another sip of his coffee, and was silent for a few moments.<br>Alan filled the silence by pouring himself a cup of coffee, and finally Kevin spoke again, with the usual lighthearted drawl.

"_So, Jet, GWU,...why not Cal Tech?"_

"_Oh, it was a consideration,...but..." _Alan paused and gave a slight nod, his lips tightening, "_...he chose D.C. so he could be near his mother."_

Kevin's brows raised in surprise, and he set the cup down. "_Wh-...D.C.?...no, man,...you and Lora?..."_

As Kevin's voice trailed off, Alan gave a wry smile and shook his head, chuckling. _"No,...no,...it's-...things are... fine, really. Back in the 90's she got offered a position she just couldn't pass up, and, it was only going to short-term, but, short-term turned into permanent. I stayed here, for ENCOM, and,...for Sam."_

Kevin stared at him with compassionate look, rendered momentarily speechless. He didn't quite understand what had happened, but he could see from the look in Alan's eyes that revisiting the past or elaborating the details was the last thing the man wanted to have to do. So Kevin just nodded instead.  
>Now it was even more clear what sacrifices his friend had made for him over the years.<br>He gave a slight frown, not quite sure what to say.  
>But then there wasn't time to say anything, because in through the door walked Sam, who stopped in place when he glanced up to see his dad and Alan looking as though they were discussing something serious. Then he looked back and forth between the two of them, and raised his eyebrows.<p>

"_What?...what'd I miss?..."_

Kevin grinned and gave a half-chuckle. _"Nothin' kiddo. Didn't miss a thing."_

Alan gave Sam a smirk. _"Hey, what took you so long, hot shot? We saw you go past us in a blur on the freeway. Thought you'd have gotten here long before us."_

Sam grinned, and looked at Kevin, silently mouthing the words "hot shot".  
>Then he hiked his thumb in Alan's direction, shaking his head in mock incredulity. <em>"Hot shot?...Who says that anymore?"<em>

Kevin grinned, watching Alan's eyebrow raise. Then he took another sip of coffee and gave Sam a smirky grin, _"We do. We're from the dark ages, kiddo. Stop givin' your godfather a buncha' sass." _

"_Sass?..."_ Sam grinned ear to ear.

Kevin just chuckled and finished his coffee with a gulp, his eyes suddenly widening as he set the cup down. _"Hey, speakin' of 'sass'...where's Clu?"_

Alan rolled his eyes. _"Oh, probably still in the shower. Between him and Tron, I'm going to be shocked if there's any hot water left."_

Kevin chuckled. _"Well, if there is, I call the rest of it."_

Alan smirked and frowned, crossing his arms. _"Oh sure Flynn. No problem. I'll just go shower at the gym."_

Kevin laughed, shrugging and shaking his head._"Well,...my bad,... Bradley. I thought you had grabbed a shower first, before you showed them around and gave them the whole 'running-water, bathroom-habits' talk thing." _

Alan shrugged, rolling his eyes again and walking to set the coffee cups in the sink.

"_No, I didn't,... - and thank you, by the way, for saddling me with that charming responsibility,...no, I was going to shower but I decided to let the newly-human types go first, since they were so very enthralled with the concept of water. Tron's upstairs in my bathroom and Clu's downstairs in the guest suite." _

Kevin nodded, glancing towards the downstairs hallway where the guest suite was located.  
>Suddenly his eyes got wider, then he frowned, crossing his arms and raising one hand to slightly cover his face, silently stifling a laugh.<br>_"Guys,...excuse me a minute..."_ he said in a patient voice, and then he turned and walked out of the kitchen.

Alan raised both eyebrows, glancing over at Sam who seemed equally puzzled. He shook his head slightly. _"I'm not even going to ask."_

Sam's eyes widened and he quietly laughed, as the two of them overheard Kevin's voice from the hallway.

_"Clu,...man,...you can't just walk around like that..."_

And then an identical voice answered, coming of course from Clu this time.

"_Well, I wasn't planning to. I was only going to find Alan-One, to ask about getting more of the cloths for drying. This one didn't go very far."_

And, Kevin's voice again. _ "That's because it's a washcloth, buddy."_

At that, Alan's eyes widened as well and he stifled a laugh. Then he called out over his shoulder to the hallway. _"I'm sorry,...I forgot there weren't any towels in there. Hall closet, on the right."_

Then Sam and Alan both dissolved into silent laughter in the kitchen.  
>Alan spoke in a hushed voice.<p>

"_Our entire morning's been like this. I haven't laughed so much in ages. These guys are hilarious, and they aren't trying to be. It's all just so new to them, even the smallest of things we take for granted."_

Just then the kitchen door opened again, and in walked Quorra, wide-eyed and smiling, cradling a large gray cat in her arms.  
>Seeing her hands were full, Sam stepped over to close the door for her, and she looked at him, grinning.<br>Then she looked at Alan, suddenly giving a sheepish look._ "Oh...is it alright to just walk in? I know knocking is a custom in the User world?"_

Alan only nodded, seeming a bit dumbfounded as he stared at the sight of this young woman so casually holding his very large and often-feral old cat. Then finally he spoke, waving his hand absently, still staring at the docile animal who seemed so relaxed in her arms. _"Uh,...sure,...that's fine-..." _

Quorra smiled down at the cat, and Alan still stood there almost gaping.

"_I can't believe Max is letting you hold him. I have to wear oven mitts just to pet him."_

Quorra looked from the cat to Alan. _"His name is Max?"_

Alan nodded. _"Yes. Max Headroom, actually. Max for short. I've had him almost fourteen years. He stays outside half the time-, and-..." _

He paused, watching as Quorra gently placed the now squirming Max on the floor, and the cat went right to the automatic pet-feeder dish which sat in the corner of the room. Quorra slowly lowered herself into one of the kitchen chairs, still smiling as she watched curiously while the animal ate its food.  
>Alan shook his head, giving an amused chuckle.<p>

Just then, Kevin came back through the kitchen, gesturing back over his shoulder with a wave.

"_He's gettin' it together,...I hope..." _He rolled his eyes, looking at Sam. _"...can't tell ya' how surreal this is."_

Sam chuckled. _"Yeah. Just a tiny bit."_

Clu appeared from the hall doorway just then, wearing only a large bath-towel wrapped around his waist.  
>He stopped and stood there with wet, disheveled hair and bare feet, looking first at Sam, then at Kevin. <em>"What about the bit?"<em>

Alan leaned over and rested his forehead against the kitchen counter, laughing silently. Kevin tried his best to not even look at Alan so he wouldn't laugh.  
>Instead he looked over to Clu with a slightly-paternal nod.<p>

_"I've got the bit in my jacket pocket, buddy,...'give it back to ya in just a little while. First, what-say we find you somethin' to wear,...okay?"_

Clu nodded, and then suddenly glanced over across the room towards the table, for the first time noticing Quorra was sitting there.  
>She was staring at him from head to toe in surprise, quite unaccustomed to the sight of him this way, and when her gaze landed on his eyes he simply gave her a small grin, raising a smug eyebrow. But her eyes widened and she immediately blushed, turning away quickly and returning her attention to the cat.<p>

Clu chuckled to himself, still grinning smugly until he glanced at Sam who was giving him the stare-down. Then he looked back at Kevin, finally acknowledging his question. _"Yes. Sounds like a good idea."_

Alan stepped away from the counter. _"You know, that reminds me,...'guess I'd better go find something for __**my**__ double to put on. Otherwise he's probably going to come breezing in here wearing a towel too, and that's just going to be too weird."_

Kevin nodded, tapping his fingers on the counter, looking at Alan as he passed by him. "_Man,... I know this is a long shot,... but, you-...you didn't by any chance hang onto any of my clothes when they sold mom and dad's place,... did ya?"_

Alan nodded matter-of-factly, his face expressionless._ "I kept all of them. They're in the closet of the guest room. The rest of your stuff's in storage." _

Kevin's eyes went wide, and then he smiled. _"Alan, I could kiss you!"_

Alan raised an eyebrow, and deadpanned, "_Let's not get carried away, Flynn."_ Then he turned, walking into the hallway and calling back to Kevin. _"Come on,...it's down the hall here."_

* * *

><p>Alan was rummaging through one of the kitchen drawers when Kevin appeared in the doorway, with Clu following right behind him.<br>The two of them looked like a flashback from 1985.

" _Stylish."_ Alan's wry voice brought a chuckle from Kevin. He ran his hand through hair which was still wet from his shower, and looked down at the clothes he now wore...the closest thing he'd been able to find to compare with the loose fitting clothing he'd worn on the Grid, though it wasn't much of a comparison - a pair of gray parachute pants and a white long sleeved T-shirt with a small embroidered Ocean Pacific logo on it.

"_Ya' like?...yeah, 'grabbed the first thing I could find that looked comfy."_

Alan glanced past him at Clu, who wore a pair of Kevin's old Levi's and a black Flynn's Arcade T-shirt. He frowned._ "Now that's scary."_

Clu looked at him, then looked at Kevin, a puzzled expression on his face. He didn't see anything particularly frightening about what he was wearing.  
>When he'd seen it amongst the shirts in the storage box, he'd specifically asked Kevin if he could wear the shirt, because he knew the arcade had held significance in his Creator's past. And surely Kevin would have told him if there was something 'scary' associated with either the piece of clothing or the arcade.<br>He looked at Sam, waiting for an explanation.

Sam stood up from the table, and walked past Clu towards the fridge. _"Yeah. It kinda is. But, guess we're good as long as he doesn't try to tell me a bedtime story."_

Clu looked at him, even more puzzled.  
>But there wasn't time to ask for clarification, because just then Tron rounded the corner and walked into the kitchen, his tall form looking quite dapper in a pair of Alan's khaki pants and a button-down oxford shirt, a pair of loafers on his feet.<p>

Kevin chuckled. _"Speaking of scary,...dead ringer there, right down to the loafs!..."_ he paused, casting a glance over at the shoes, slacks and oxford Alan himself was wearing, and then he grinned ear to ear. _"...haven't changed your look much over the years, Alan." _

Alan stopped rummaging through the drawer long enough to scowl and smirk at Kevin, giving a mocking glance towards the very outdated parachute pants he was wearing.

_"Hey, Flock of Seagulls,...some things are classic and never go out of style."_

Sam spluttered, popping the top on a soda can on his way back from the refrigerator.  
>He stopped beside them, took a sip, then gestured with the can in Kevin's direction as he spoke.<p>

"_...'s okay, Dad,...there's the whole retro 80's thing going on now. Gotta believe those pants'll make a comeback. You're probably good."_

He snickered and patted Kevin on the arm as he walked past.  
>Kevin looked back and forth between Alan and Sam, smirking and raising an eyebrow.<p>

"_Yeah,...well,...point taken. First chance I get, I'll shop for some new threads, okay?"_

"_AHA!"_ Alan suddenly exclaimed, closing the cluttered drawer and holding up an old, worn leather glasses case. _"There we go! I knew these were in here somewhere."_

Opening the glasses case, he removed the old glasses and held them up to inspect them, then cleaned the smudges off the lenses with the small cloth from the case.  
>Finally he handed the glasses to Tron.<p>

" _Here you go. As I promised."_

The former program's eyes widened and he smiled.  
>From the look on his face one would've thought he'd been given the Holy Grail.<p>

"_Oh, thank you!...thank you, Alan-One, ...um – I mean, Alan..."_ He took the glasses and carefully placed them onto his face, adjusting them into position as he'd seen his User do, and then he smiled again.

Alan Bradley couldn't help but grin and shake his head.  
>It was as though time had rewound itself two decades and he was looking in the mirror. He smiled.<p>

"_You're welcome,...Tron." _

* * *

><p><em>An hour later...<em>

The kitchen table was now host to a smorgasbord of salad and sandwiches which Sam and Kevin had put together for lunch.  
>Kevin had made the sandwiches and the salad, relishing the chance to prepare real food again, instead of just digitizing something to simulate actual food. Quorra had sliced honeydew melon, arranging the sliced crescents onto a plate. Sam's contribution had been his specialty - a huge tray of cheese nachos.<br>Tron and Clu had watched the proceedings, fascinated, having neither seen nor partaken of User food before, and then with a bit of instruction from Kevin the two of them had set the table with plates, silverware, napkins and glasses.

Quorra was just placing the platter of melon onto the table with the rest of the food when Alan came walking in, freshly showered and shaven, and dressed in a pair of soft denim jeans with a white oxford shirt.

When Sam looked up, Alan gave him a proud smirk. _"See? I told you. I do too wear jeans."_

Sam grinned, shaking his head and raising his hands in mock surrender. _"Hey, never doubted you."_

Alan walked over to the table, surveying the array of food. "_Well. Doesn't this just look fantastic!"_

A few moments later they were all seated around the table, each helping their plates with portions of the meal.  
>Tron watched Alan slice a piece of a honeydew crescent and eat it, and then he emulated just what his User had done, slowly savoring the taste of the sweet melon. When he'd finished chewing and swallowing - a process which thankfully he found was instinctive and seemed to need no instruction - he sat back in his chair and smiled.<p>

"_Absolutely amazing. I've never experienced nourishment like this before."_

Quorra smiled at him. _"You've never had real food, only energy. It's wonderful, isn't it?"_

Across the table from them, Clu was quietly trying to figure out just how to ingest the food item they were calling 'nachos'.  
>The things seemed appealing and intriguing, so he'd placed some on his plate, but when he tried to cut them into pieces with a fork the way Alan and Tron had cut the melon, the chips simply fell apart into the cheese and stuck together. He tried again, with no luck.<p>

Sam was watching his father's young lookalike, and trying not to grin. _"Here you go Clu. Best way to eat 'em is with your fingers."_  
>He picked up a chip covered in melted cheese and popped it in to his mouth, crunching. Clu tried the same technique, and indeed it was much simpler. He smiled, and then ate another bite.<p>

Kevin paused in between bites of salad, watching him. _"Whaddya' think about all this, Clu?"_

Clu nodded while chewing, trying to decide whether he should finish chewing and then answer, or try do both simultaneously.  
>He decided on the former, and in a moment, replied with a slight nod.<p>

"_Very enjoyable. And the cheese is also amusing."_

Kevin's eyebrows raised slightly. _"Amusing?..." _

Clu nodded, reaching for another cheese-covered chip, grinning as he watched the small string of cheese which still connected it to the other chips on his plate. _"Yes. Because it stretches."_

Kevin just looked at him, a smile slowly forming at the corners of his mouth.  
>This was like seeing the world through the eyes of a child, all over again, just like he had with Sam so long ago, and it was hard to believe this man was once the same program who'd until recently been a relentless and merciless overlord of the Grid.<br>As Clu conquered the string of cheese and ate the bite of nachos, Kevin just grinned.

"_Yep. It does. I've always liked that about cheese, too."_

Clu smiled at Kevin's comment, and then went right back to enjoying his meal intently.

A short while later, everyone had finished lunch, and now they all sat around the table, sated and relaxing.  
>Alan got up and poured himself another cup of coffee, pouring one for Kevin too and then returning to the table.<br>Sam sat back in his chair, tapping his fingers absently on the table and staring at his plate. Until now he'd been fairly quiet, and now he seemed distracted, his face serious.

"_Penny for your thoughts, kiddo."_ Kevin asked, sipping his coffee.

"_I was just thinking about..."_ Sam paused, then looked up at his father with a sigh, finally continuing, _"Well, not to ruin the mood but... I wanna' find out who came into the arcade, dad. How all of that got set up, with the internet. I almost really want to go to ENCOM and do a little research, but,...well, you know,...not with-...I mean-..."_

He stopped stumbling over his words, and just looked at Kevin.  
>Kevin just gave a small knowing grin, and nodded his head.<p>

"_I know, Sam. I do too. I'm trying to relax, but I'm still thinking about all of it, you know?...especially the Grid, what to do about that. So, yeah, lots to figure out. And I agree on the ENCOM thing,... that's not a good idea. I mean, us going along with you, that is..." _

Kevin nodded towards Clu and Tron, then sipped his coffee again.  
>Sam exhaled with relief. He knew there were so many things his dad would want to see after being gone for this long, and he was torn between wanting to spend time with his father and wanting to figure this whole thing out. But his dad understood that, and knowing he understood it made Sam suddenly much more relaxed.<br>Nodding in agreement, he sipped his soda, and then without really thinking he just blurted out the rest of what was on his mind.

"_...yeah, because,...well you could probably slide now that you're older with the beard and all,...but, Clu? Let's face it...he looks just like you did when you left. And I could see that quickly becoming a hassle, especially with the board, and the Flynn Lives thing, and-" _

He stopped mid-sentence, realizing what he'd just said, and wishing he hadn't just said it.  
>Immediately he glanced at Alan, who had nearly choked on his coffee when he'd heard the words. Then he looked back at Kevin with an awkward expression.<p>

Kevin just looked back at him and blinked, his eyes narrowed in slight confusion.

"_...'Flynn Lives'...?"_

Sam's eyes got slightly wider, and he cleared his throat with a small smile. He looked back at Alan, then looked back at his father again, and he was about to speak when Alan's voice spoke instead.

"_Quite a lot's happened since you've been gone, Kevin..."_

From the way Alan took a deep breath, slowly set down his coffee cup, and looked at him with that familiar calm smirky grin on his face, Kevin knew he was in for quite an interesting explanation.


	5. Chapter 5

The Grid

* * *

><p>He hadn't thought the Sea of Simulation would be quite so strikingly similar to real water, but it certainly seemed to be. The armored suit was quite wet, dripping pixelated droplets along the simulated ground, and there was a sort of sloshing in his boots as he walked.<p>

Had the situation not been what it was, he would have been marveling at the innovation of it, at the fact that the system had been capable of upgrading itself to such an extent as to mirror the physical properties of real world so closely. But instead, he found it really just annoying, because now with every step he felt the sloshing and was reminded of what he'd just done. Heading uphill from the shore, he scolded himself in his thoughts.  
><em>...dammit...<em>  
><em>...nice, Ed...<br>...you took Flynn down but then you went down too...  
>...shouldn't have fired at Clu...<br>...now he's escaped, the portal's gone...  
>...and you're sopping wet and stuck here in the Grid, at least until-...<br>...oh whatever...  
>...dammit...<em>

He stopped walking and sighed, looking around him.  
>Up ahead was a covered tunnel, and so he stomped forward again, heading for its shadowed recesses. At least that would be a discreet place where he could utilize his User-powers to 'rez a dry suit. Not that he couldn't do that right where he'd stood, because there were no signs of any programs nearby, but, that didn't mean they weren't around somewhere, and he really didn't want to have to deal with the risky status of being accidentally discovered as "a User on the Grid" - many programs in the system still looked upon the Users with scorn, and that was the last thing he needed on top of the hassle he'd already created for himself.<p>

Stepping into the dimly lit tunnel he looked around again cautiously, then 'rezzed a new armored suit. From there it was short work to simply place his hand on the wall of the tunnel, raise an interface panel, access the system and digitize a new light-baton for himself.  
>That at least was a pleasant demonstration of the new system's magnificent evolution, even if experiencing the Sea of Simulation's complex murky depths had not been.<p>

And so, with the new baton he activated a light-jet, and in one short flight he was finally back to Tron City,...there on the edge of it, towering over everything nearby was the shining expanse of the Game Arena. He landed the craft on the plaza, deactivated the jet and attached the baton to the leg of his suit, then strode impatiently into the expansive arena.  
>When he finally reached the observation deck, he nearly collapsed into his chair.<p>

He found it odd that Jarvis didn't rush into the room upon his arrival and glue himself to his side, but he wasn't at all dismayed... given the events he'd just endured, and what he was about to have to humble himself to do, the presence of an obsequious aide would've been only an added irritant.

He sighed, slowly leaning forward, reaching his gloved hand down to the platform on which the chair sat.  
>Upon his touch, a rectangular interface appeared there, and as his hand rose from the platform, the interface rose with it, until it was stretched in front of him like a desktop.<br>He sighed again, typed a string of code to initiate a transmission, waited for the cursor, then entered the User-name and request.

_MCTRL/query

Then he waited for the loop-back transmission, and for the deep, electronically-simulated voice which he already knew would not sound pleased.  
>After a slight delay, the dialog cursor appeared.<br>And so did the voice, literally emanating from the walls around him.

_WHERE ARE YOU?

Here was the part he was dreading.  
>He could either tell the truth about what he'd done to Flynn and about Clu's escape, and then face a potentially-scathing bit of parental admonishing for which he really wasn't in the mood,...or else he could lie and avoid the hassle. He chose the latter, and typed the reply.<p>

_STILL ON THE GRID.  
>_DIDN'T MAKE IT TO THE PORTAL IN TIME.<p>

As it was, the admonishing he got was still fairly unpleasant, but not wholly unexpected.

_I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU COULD HANDLE THIS?

He sighed, and typed again.

_I CAN.  
>_JUST A MINOR MISCALCULATION, THAT'S ALL.<p>

The booming voice which accompanied the words nearly vibrated his teeth.

_MINOR, BUT CARELESS.  
>_DON'T LET IT HAPPEN AGAIN.<p>

And then after a pause, he watched more words appear onscreen.

_VERY WELL THEN, THE PORTAL IS RESET.

He hesitated a moment, jaw still clenched, and then typed again.

_THANKS, DAD.

And the only words which appeared in response...

_END OF LINE.

Deactivating the interface, he stood up, stepped down from the platform and strode across the mezzanine towards the elevator.  
>He wasn't going to wait around to encounter Jarvis, nor to see any of the games. After already having to endure enough irritated words from his father – or, from what was left of his father, that is - he knew that spending any more time on the Grid this trip was pushing his luck, even if he did technically still have eight hours left to get to the portal.<br>He would simply have to return again later. For now, he was going right back to the portal and 'rezzing himself right back to his office.  
>He had work to do, namely to figure out how to resolve the issue of Clu's having escaped to the real world. Then again, he could probably take care of that very simply with just a few phone-calls.<p>

When the elevator doors slid open, he strode back out onto the plaza, activated his light-jet, and took off for the portal.

* * *

><p>Los Angeles<br>Alan Bradley's residence  
>: : : : : : : :<p>

Kevin stood up from the kitchen chair, still digesting all of the information Alan and Sam had just told him about Flynn Lives, the impending investigation, and Sam's rather stunning statement before the news cameras. He shook his head, overwhelmed.

"_Man...and I thought the Grid was complicated...but this-... this could turn into a mess for ENCOM."_

Sam took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, an awkward look on his face.  
>Then he glanced over at Alan, who as usual would surely have the right words to say whereas he himself couldn't think of any.<p>

Alan looked back through the doorway to the spacious den, where Clu and Tron had retired before this whole discussion had gotten started. The two former programs were still sitting on the floor in front of the television, watching it intently.  
>Then he turned back around and just nodded at Kevin, speaking in a voice which was soft but confident.<p>

"_Flynn,...it's absolutely going to be alright. All of it. This Flynn Lives issue will blow over. And I'm telling you, things have changed...now that Roy's onboard again-"_

Kevin's eyebrows shot upward and he interrupted Alan. _"Roy,...Kleinberg?"_

Alan nodded, grinning, and then continued with his point. _"...yep, brought him onboard myself. You see? That's what I'm trying to tell you...things are ultimately going to be fine. They're going to be more than fine, actually - they're going to be the way they were when you were at the helm..." _He paused, raising an eyebrow, still grinning. _"...in fact, and I can foresee that being the case again at some point,... when and if you're ready. Of course, that's after we figure out how to explain your disappearance, the Grid,...everything. For now, all we need to do for now is take it slow. We'll work all this out."_

Though he still felt overwhelmed, now Kevin was smiling too, and shaking his head. He wasn't sure why, but somehow he just felt much more calm.

"_Alan,...there are times when you truly do earn your nickname...and this is one of 'em."_

Alan gave a wry chuckle and a smirk. _"What – 'isolated thinker'...?"_

Kevin rolled his eyes and laughed. _"No, man. 'Tron'!"_

Overhearing his name being spoken, Tron looked over and then stood up, walking a few steps towards the kitchen doorway to peer out at them. _"Yes Kevin?"_

"_I'm sorry, Tron,...I wasn't actually calling you, just mentioning your name. Actually, that's what we used to call your User here, too...as a nickname-...an affectionate term."_

Tron's eyes lit up, and he quirked his head, a slight smile forming on his lips.  
>If he understood it correctly, then he was deeply proud and honored to learn of this. <em>"Really?...you called Alan-One 'Tron'?..."<em>

Alan looked over at him and nodded.  
>Tron beamed, then finally turned to walk back into the den, a smile still on his face.<p>

Kevin turned back around, chuckling softly to himself.

Sam walked over to his father and gave a slight shrug. _"Alan's right, dad,...think it's gonna be okay,...eventually..." _he paused, then looked back and forth from Kevin to Alan,_ "...but for right now, seems like me finding out who hooked up the internet at the arcade might be a good plan. Don't ya think?"_

Kevin looked at him, nodding slowly and then walking over to him. _"Yeah,...guess so. Just...be careful. And watch out for the cameras, kiddo." _

Sam chuckled as Kevin pulled him into a hug. Then he stepped back, and looked at Quorra, who sat in the kitchen chair, Max now curled up in her lap.

"_You should probably stay here, Q. I'll be back in a little while."_

She nodded, and gave him a soft smile. After a moment's pause, he stepped towards her, leaned down, and gave her a hug, then planted a soft kiss on her cheek.  
>Watching this, Kevin grinned, casting a quick glance at Alan, who raised an eyebrow, grinning as well.<br>A moment later, Sam turned and with a wave to them he was out the door.  
>Quorra resumed softly petting the cat, watching Sam through the window as he got on the bike.<p>

Alan looked at Kevin, then nodded towards the den. _"Well,...care to go hang out with the kids awhile?"_

Kevin gave a half-chuckle. _"Yeah, why not. And man, hate to sound old, but that couch has nap written all over it."_

Alan nodded, gesturing towards the den with a smirky grin. _"By all means. The recliner's been calling me for a few minutes now."_

Just as they walked into the den, Clu turned his attention away from the television, and then raised up to a sitting position on the floor, watching as Kevin walked over to the couch to sit down.  
>After a moment's pause, he spoke.<p>

"_Kevin?..."_

"_Yeah, buddy?"_

"_Did they ever call you 'Clu' as a nickname?..."_

Kevin looked at him, puzzled at first, but then the corners of his mouth curled into a grin. He could see what Clu was getting at.

_"Well,...no,...but,...tell ya' what – you can call me Clu as a nickname sometimes,... if you want. How about that?..."_

Clu slowly grinned, and gave a slight nod before returning his attention to the television. He and Tron continued to stare at the screen, slightly mesmerized by the movie which was playing.

_"Well,...TV's sure have gotten a lot flatter."_ Kevin remarked, leaning back on the couch, and eying the television for a second as a gaggle of giant animated robots waged battle onscreen. Then he looked over at Alan._ "...what's that they're watching?"_

Alan raised an eyebrow. _"The Transformers movie."_

Kevin smiled, and chuckled. _"You serious?...they're in the movies now?... Sam had 'em on his lunchbox one year. Watched the show on Saturday mornings, had a couple of the toy figures too. He was really attached to 'em. Not as much as he was to Tron though."_

He smiled at the memory, and then suddenly remembered something - earlier he'd promised to give the Bit back to Clu.  
>He reached over to grab his jacket from the chair next to the couch, finding the bit in the pocket of it.<p>

"_Hey Clu?..."_ he called out softly, and as Clu turned around, he held up the bit. _"Catch."_

Kevin tossed the bit to his lookalike, who caught it and grinned before turning his attention back to the screen. _"Thanks, ...'Clu'." _

Kevin chuckled. _"Yep. You're welcome buddy."_ And then he leaned his head back on the couch, watching the movie for a few moments, until heavy eyelids and slight mental exhaustion finally decided it was in fact time for a nap.  
>Across the room in the recliner, Alan joined him in that decision just a few moments later.<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

Los Angeles  
>Alan Bradley's residence<br>: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :

He'd been dozing there on the couch for quite a while, occasionally drifting just enough towards wakefulness to hear the sounds in the room, only to settle back peacefully into sleep, and dreams.

Dreams.  
>Such a luxury revisited.<br>And so different now from when he was on the Grid. There dreams were little more than an overly-vibrant technicolor replay of his own memories, not unlike looking through a scrapbook of moving pictures with the contrast turned up too high.  
>For twenty-one years it had been that way, as though his subconscious hadn't functioned during sleep, and yet it certainly had functioned when he'd been awake, to an advanced degree, usually in the form of intuitions and profound thoughts woven together during his countless hours spent meditating. He'd found himself able to solve puzzles in his mind, to entertain and dissect abstracts with ease, and to strategize in a way he'd never been able to off the Grid - almost as a form of precognition, and it was part of what had kept him alive.<br>And yet, all that time, just to have a simple dream where his subconscious went out to play, that had never once happened on the Grid.

Which was why it was such a joyous thing to have it happen now.  
>Even if he was dreaming about the Grid.<br>Yet he was lucid enough to know he wasn't still trapped there, and that it was only a dream.

_: : :He found himself walking down familiar illumined corridors wearing his hooded cloak, and when every so often a program passed him going the other direction he simply kept to the recesses of his hood, his gaze focused on the corridor ahead._

A neutral bit floated past, and he was amused to find that in his dream the bit looked like Alan's pager. He turned around and followed it for a few steps.

_"Hey,...are you a bit?" he asked it just to be sure, and it flared into the familiar, yellow octohedryl, emitting a resounding "Yes!"_

_"Just checking." he found himself saying, and then he smiled and waved the bit along, turning and continuing on his own way._

_And then he rounded a corner, and things definitely seemed out of place...he realized he was in the I/O tower's central chamber.  
>He headed up the steps of the platform, which in itself was a refresher of lucidity – he had to be dreaming, because there at the top was Dumont, and he knew that Dumont - just like Walter Gibbs - had been gone for many years now.<br>_

He walked all the way to the top of the steps, then reached out and grabbed the Guardian's hand in a warm greeting. Dumont smiled and patted his hand.

_"Flynn-One! It's been a long time! How very good to see you again..." came the old familiar voice, "...but,... why are you here?"_

_He was going to answer, "I'm dreaming, and just came by to visit"... but instead when he opened his mouth to speak he found himself saying, "Because all that is visible must grow beyond itself, and extend into the realm of the invisible."_

_Musing at what he'd just heard himself say, he grinned and chuckled at the strangeness of this dream._  
><em>Strangeness which of course was compounded when Dumont looked around cautiously, leaned his face toward Flynn and whispered, his expression suddenly more serious.<em>

_"You've already done that, old friend. You extended into the realm of the invisible, and discovered the infinite. But so has MCP. You shouldn't be here. It isn't safe."_

_"What?" Kevin looked at him with an absurd expression, "No, Dumont,...the MCP's history, remember?..."_

_Dumont frowned warily and shook his head 'no' very quickly, almost imperceptibly, and then his whisper took on a raspy, urgent edge._

"Go, Flynn! Wake up! Watch your back. And make sure your sons are safe."

_Kevin looked at him, puzzled. "Sons?...but-...I... just have one son...wait- what?..."_

_Confused, he looked at the old Guardian, and started to take a step back, shifting his weight to rest one boot down onto the step below, but the step wasn't there anymore and he lost his balance, then felt himself falling very slowly backward... : : :_

He woke up with a jolt, recalling feeling as though he'd been falling just before he'd awakened.  
>Blinking, he looked around the spacious den.<br>No sign of Clu and Tron. The television was off. Alan was sound asleep in the recliner across from the couch, snoring softly.

He looked around the room for a clock, then squinted at the small digital LED clock on the face of what looked to be a very-sophisticated VCR.  
>It was 3:33 pm.<br>He had no idea what time it was when he'd fallen asleep, but it felt like he'd napped for over an hour, maybe two. He still wasn't used to thinking in terms of 'time' again, since it really hadn't mattered all those cycles on the Grid.

Stretching his arms, he stood up slowly, then turned and walked to the kitchen, expecting he would likely find Quorra still there at the table.

_"Q?..."_

He called out softly as walked through the doorway, only to find an empty kitchen. No Quorra.  
>Then he walked to the window, and stood peering out into the front yard. No sign of her there, nor of Clu and Tron either.<br>He sighed, hoping they were elsewhere in the house, because the thought of them off wandering around the neighborhood was one he definitely didn't relish.

Padding slowly with bare feet down the hallway towards the guest suite, he peeked his head in through the open doorway, calling out in a soft voice, then walking through to the adjoining room.

"_Quorra?...Clu?...Tron?..."_

Only the silence of empty rooms answered him.  
>He sighed, making his way further down the hallway.<br>Rounding the corner he stopped suddenly, surprised to see that the back door wasn't there anymore.  
>Nor was the laundry room. Instead there was a large game room, in the middle of which sat a pool table.<br>_...this is new..._

Stepping slowly in through the doorway, he stood looking around at the room.  
>A very familiar movie poster graced the far wall, hanging in a simple back-lit frame - the poster from "The Day The Earth Stood Still"...it had once hung in Alan's cubicle at ENCOM.<br>_...how many years ago that was..._  
>Scanning his eyes around the rest of the room he saw an antique chess table, shelves full of board-games, puzzles, a gym bag, several cans of racquetballs and two racquets which graced the corner, and there on the farthest wall, in near-mint condition, were two arcade game machines - '<em>Tron', and 'Space Paranoids'.<em>

He smiled, heading across towards the machines, but then stopped when movement caught his eye through the large sliding glass doors to his left.

Looking over, he saw Quorra, Clu and Tron out on the patio in the back yard, standing beside a rather sizeable...pool?  
><em>...that's new too...<em>  
>The last time he'd seen this yard it was simply a huge sprawling lawn with a tree.<br>And now, in addition to the pool and patio, it looked as though there was a recessed spa as well. A wooden chaise lounge was next to that, and several outdoor torches lined the perimeter of the patio.  
>This back yard had become somewhat of an outdoor sanctuary.<br>_...way to go, Alan...  
><em>  
>Kevin couldn't help but grin, watching through the glass doors as all three former programs stood marveling at the water which sparkled blue in the sunlight.<br>Tron got down on his hands and knees, then reached to touch the water's surface. Clu did the same, and the two of them began talking with each other.  
>Kevin couldn't hear what they were saying through the glass doors, but whatever it was, it made Quorra look down at Tron, shaking her head.<br>But then Tron just shrugged, laying down on his stomach on the concrete patio beside the pool and scooting as close to the water's edge as he could get...and then he reached out his arm to the water.  
>Kevin hoped the former program wasn't about to do what it looked like he was about to do.<br>But sure enough, he was...and before Kevin could get the heavy sliding door all the way open, Tron had scooped up a handful of the water, bringing it to his lips and drinking it.  
>After which he made a sour face.<p>

Suppressing a chuckle, Kevin quickly stepped out the doorway and went striding across the patio towards the pool, his bare feet finding a few small loose pebbles along the way.

_"Hey, Tron?... - ow! - ...yeah,... you probably don't wanna drink that..." _

Tron was climbing back to his feet, looking as though he felt more than just a little foolish. And then he glanced over at Kevin with a frown and an unpleasant smirk.

_"You can sure say that again." _

Quorra gave her mentor a slight shrug, crossing her arms. _"I'm sorry, Kevin,...I tried to tell him it's probably not a spring, but he wanted to try it anyway."_

Kevin just chuckled. _"Well,...it's definitely not, but, that's alright,...a little pool water never hurt anybody. I sure swallowed enough of it when I was a kid."_

Quorra looked at him strangely. Then he added, _"...well, not on purpose...but, it happens when you're swimming sometimes."_

The ISO's face lit up. She'd read of swimming. _"You can swim in this?"_

Kevin grinned. "_Well,... yeah, Q,...it's not the same as our pool. This is a swimming pool. That's what it's made for."_

Clu stood up, looking at the water, then back at Kevin._ "Why would you want to do that?"_

Kevin just smiled. _"Because it's fun, Clu. And, in the summer when it's hot outside, it feels really great to jump in the cold water."_

Clu nodded, not completely understanding.  
>He knew the seasons and temperatures changed in the User world, he knew Users swam in the oceans of this world, and, he recalled that his Creator had once spoken of doing something called "surfing"...but this pool was small, self-contained, and it didn't really seem to have any waves. He still didn't quite get the point.<p>

Kevin walked to the shallow end of the pool, and stuck his toes in the water.

_"Hm. It's warm. Not what I expected,...at least not in December."_

Alan's voice came from across the patio. _"That's because it's heated. You can swim in it year-round."_

Kevin turned around, surprised to see his friend was now awake and walking out to greet them. "_Yeah?...you do a lot of swimming now, Alan?"_

Alan shook his head. _"No. But Jet does. Well - did,...when he was here. I had this built for him...and for Sam..." _he paused, turning and pointing to the spa with a sly grin on his face,_ "...and THAT'S for me."_

Kevin looked over towards the spa, then walked over to inspect the round miniature pool, reaching down to test the water's temperature with his hand.  
>While crouched over, he realized he ached in places which had never ached on the Grid.<br>_...the cycles haven't been kind, have they?..._

He stood back up slowly, more than a little aware that his muscles could probably use a good soak. _"Yep,...may just have to check this out myself."_

Quorra giggled and looked at him oddly. _"How can you swim in that! There's no room!"_

Her mentor just grinned at her. _"This one's not for swimming, Q. You just sit in it, and it relaxes you. The water's very warm."_

Quorra smiled and nodded, then averted her eyes, feeling a bit embarrassed that she'd asked such a thing.  
>Tron and Clu walked past her, and stopped to stand beside Kevin. Tron glanced over at the steaming rising from the spa, his curiosity piqued.<p>

_"This must be even more wonderful than the experience of a shower."_

Clu nodded in agreement, and with a curious look he bent down to touch the water's surface, then submerged his hand and smiled.

Kevin just grinned and nodded, hands on hips. Then he looked across at Alan and shrugged.

"_Well,... looks like it'll be a party of four for the spa. Hope you've got a few extra towels, Alan. Or a whole lotta' washcloths."_

Clu frowned and shot Kevin a look.

"_Wha-aat?..." _Kevin grinned, his voice lilting into singsong as he shrugged, raising his hands. Then he reached over and patted Clu's shoulder. _"I'm just kiddin' you, buddy."_

Watching them, the older man gave a smirk. _"Towels? Sure. Swimsuits, probably. Come on, we'll see what we can do." _Alan turned and slowly walked back across the patio, with Tron, Clu and Kevin in tow.

As they reached the sliding doors, Kevin looked back to see that Quorra wasn't following them.  
>Instead she had returned to the side of the pool and was now sitting with her legs crossed, chin resting on her hand as she gazed at the water with a peaceful smile on her face.<br>Instantly Kevin was reminded of how she'd often sat that same way, staring at the simulated waters of their shallow indoor pool at the safehouse...he would always say,_ 'penny for your thoughts'_, and, with a smile she would always answer, _'do I get to make a wish with it?'_...

He gave a wry smile now at the memory, and started to call out to her, but then hesitated, and when she looked up at him he just gave a slight nod, then slowly turned and stepped through the doorway, following the others.

* * *

><p>ENCOM Tower<br>Second floor  
>: : : : : : : : : :<p>

"_Yeah,..there we go. Bingo." _

Sam muttered to himself, and sat back from the keyboard with a determined grin.  
>Then inserting the flash drive in the USB port, he copied the data with a click of the mouse.<br>He'd been here almost an hour, and finally he'd found what he'd come looking for.  
>It wasn't going to please his dad or Alan, but then again it wasn't going to surprise them either. It certainly didn't surprise <em>him<em>.

He stood up from the chair and walked quickly out of the office, closing the door behind him, shoving the flash drive into his pocket and slinging the backpack up onto his shoulder.  
>Rounding the corner, he whistled softly to himself, walking briskly towards the elevators and pressing the button.<br>Just then one of the office doors opened, and Sam looked over to see Edward Dillinger Jr.  
><em>...oh great, speak of the devil...<br>...what's he doing here on a Sunday?..._

The young man looked up, startled, and then he smoothed his disheveled hair back.  
>Shirt-tail half-untucked, vest unbuttoned, and with dark circles under his eyes, Ed Jr. looked as though he'd pulled an all-nighter and then rolled down a hillside.<br>He seemed definitely surprised to see Sam there, but then the look of shock quickly turned to the usual cool smirk, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"_Working overtime, I see."_

At the comment, Sam just nodded in reply, gave a slight, perfunctory smile, and then kept right on whistling, rocking impatiently on his feet and wishing in earnest that the elevator car would arrive.  
>Meanwhile the young Dillinger crossed his arms and leaned back against the doorframe of his open office doorway.<br>He pushed his glasses up, crossed his arms again and gave a slight, saccharin grin.

"_Mighty chipper these days. Nepotism seems to agree with you. Or,...oh that's right! Never mind - ...it's the family name."_

Sam stopped whistling, and slowly turned his head to look over at the young, audacious hipster, the beginnings of a 'you-gotta-be-kiddin-me' mirthless smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.  
>He could scarcely believe the guy had said what he'd just said, and he so very badly wanted to reply with something flippant, or better yet, something scathing.<br>But instead he paused for a second, cooling his anger and raising his eyebrows, an index finger casually reaching to idly scratch the side of his cheek.  
>His expression turned to more of a smirk, and then he turned to face Dillinger Jr. fully, his gaze leveling to an emotionless stare.<p>

"_Look. You don't like me. I get that. You don't respect me. I get that too." _

The elevator car approached and the chime sounded.  
>Sam glanced at the doors which still weren't open yet, and then he looked back at Ed Jr., who just stood leaning against his doorway, calmly smirking as though he found this amusing.<br>Then Sam's brows raised and he continued matter-of-factly, with the same emotionless stare.

"_But,...like me or not, this is my company. So, for as long as we both work here,..." _

He paused as the elevator doors slid open.  
>Then he stepped forward, tossing the backpack onto the elevator floor and stopping to look back at Dillinger, his eyes cooling to a steel gaze that froze the smirk off of the young man's face.<p>

"_...why don't we just stay outta' each other's way ... what-say?"_

It wasn't a question, and the edge to his voice plus his icy stare said so in no uncertain terms.  
>With that, he stepped into the elevator car and slammed his hand onto the button, sending the doors sliding to a close a second later.<br>As the car descended, he closed his eyes, exhaling in frustration and then shrugging it off...he knew it wasn't worth letting the guy get to him.  
>In a matter of seconds the doors opened onto the parking garage level, and he bent to pick up the backpack, exiting the car.<br>Reaching into his pocket for his keys, he pulled out the flash drive too, then looked at it, smirked, and stuffed it back into his pocket, heading towards the bike.


	7. Chapter 7

The sunset's last amber glow was fading as Sam coasted down the street and pulled the bike into Alan Bradley's front yard.  
>Pulling off his helmet, he glanced up to see the violet hues which streaked the sky, and immediately Quorra's remarks about sunrises and sunsets echoed back to him, along with so many other thoughts which were already there swirling in his head. All the way back from the Encom Tower he'd been distracted in thought, so much so that he'd almost missed the freeway exit.<p>

Shuffling across the lawn, he bent to pick up the rolled-up Sunday newspaper. Glancing at portions of headlines through the clear wrapper, he could see that the front-page stories were still centered mainly around the Encom corporate restructuring and the 'Flynn Lives' investigation.  
>He sighed. It had been almost a week and the press hadn't let go of it one bit. He doubted they would for a long while, and it wasn't surprising to him...controversy fed this town, a hollow diet high in sensationalism and low on factual accuracy. But he hoped Alan would be able to set the media straight with a press release after Monday's board meeting. Then again, that would only correct the public's misconception of what was going on overtly with Encom and Flynn Lives. The covert and indeterminate agendas which seemed to underscore it all were another matter entirely, as was the nebulous factor of how it involved the Grid. All of that remained a mystery, and likely would for some time.<p>

As he walked up the stairs to the front porch, suddenly a memory jumped into his already crowded thoughts...a remembrance of something his dad had told him at the safe-house, when he'd been speaking of the Grid, the ISO's ,and how he'd once hoped to change the world : _Our worlds are more connected than anyone knows_.

Now more than ever that comment made sense. If anything did.  
>He'd need to access the system through the interface at the arcade, but so far just from what he'd just learned while hacking the Encom system and servers, it seemed there was no longer a division between the Grid and the real world, and now Clu's erstwhile misguided aspirations to escape the Grid and to perfect the real world had already been trumped by someone who quite possibly intended to rule both.<br>The question was,..._who exactly?_

In terms of the router at the arcade, he now knew who the endpoint facilitator was, at least according to current ISP data and records – Ed Dillinger Junior - but there was no way this was one-man job, and it didn't seem feasible that the young Dillinger could have been involved from the inception. The DSL router was one of the first prototypes on the market, sophisticated machinery for its time, and only affordable to large corporations. Sam had tracked its serial number back to the original Encom purchase date in the early spring of 1997. Records dating back to its purchase showed that the router's serial number and software had been registered from the Encom Tower address, but trace logs showed that the router was remotely linked with the IP address of the arcade's system. Which would mean that if Ed Jr. was the one who purchased it, and the one who accessed the arcade to install it, then he would've had to have done so when he was merely a young teenaged apprentice just starting out at the company, and that seemed very unlikely.  
>Which then left Ed Sr. as the next plausible culprit.<p>

But, even if Ed's father was involved, as Sam suspected he was, there was the question of how, why, and for how long.  
>With all the astronomical changes Kevin, Clu and Tron described as having fallen into place so suddenly on the Grid, it was as though it had all been intricately planned and set up beforehand in order to unfold the way it did...things which should not have been at all possible had happened, and had happened concurrently, defying odds and believability in the process.<br>And they were all things which weren't in any way congruent with Kevin Flynn's designs. His rival's designs, maybe.  
>But then again, as far as Sam knew, Ed Dillinger Senior was now well into his seventies. He'd been imprisoned in 1985 after the ENCOM scandal, and then upon his release in the late 1990's he'd relocated to a retirement community, so it was doubtful he'd had much involvement from either of those places.<p>

Which left one more unanswered question – _just how far back had all of this been set in motion?  
><em>  
>Still wrestling with that thought, he tucked the newspaper under his arm and reached for his keys, shifting the motorcycle helmet to his other hand...and that's when he happened to glance at the stylized "89" sticker which graced the back of it.<br>His thoughts lurched.

_...since 1989?...  
>...or even earlier?...<br>...oh surely the hell not..._

Sam stood there staring at the sticker, his thoughts tumbling and sorting through all sorts of extreme possibilities.  
>If this was simply the work of the Dillingers, twenty-one years and two generations was certainly a really long span for a grudge, even considering Ed Sr.'s relatively short tint with incarceration in the mid 1980's after Flynn had blown the whistle on him. There was little doubt that both Ed Sr. and Ed Jr. had sociopathic tendencies and a tenaciously vindictive streak, certainly enough to concoct a motive in their minds, but Sam couldn't help but wonder - was it somehow more than that?<br>Had his father simply crossed the wrong person at the wrong time, or, had Kevin Flynn blundered into a discovery he wasn't ever supposed to make – the digital frontier - and then got locked away into the Grid because of it?

Just then the front door opened, startling Sam out of his uneasy ponderings.  
>He looked up to see Alan staring at him curiously.<p>

"_Is there some reason you're just standing there on the doorstep?"_

Sam looked at him with raised eyebrows and gave a slightly awkward shrug, grabbing the newspaper from under his arm and offering it up to Alan. _"Paper's here."_

Eyes narrowing, Alan gave his godson a sidelong glance before taking the newspaper, slipping the plastic cover from it and stepping back into the foyer. Then his brow raised slightly and he smirked at the front page news from over his glasses.

"_Oh, joy. And the beat goes on." _

Walking a few steps into the kitchen, he casually tossed the unread paper down onto the table, finishing his sentence as the stacks of newsprint landed with a soft slap against the wood, _"...I'm guessing Kevin may want to read it though, so, here it is."_

Then he turned towards the stairwell, gesturing up the stairs ahead of him. _"I was just on my way up to the study, to work on that press release for a little while. Maybe then the media can at least get the facts straight."_

Sam nodded, looking over into the empty living room. _"Where is he?"_

Alan stopped halfway up the staircase, looking back at him. _"Who- ...Kevin?" _

Sam's brows raised, the hint of a sardonic grin on his face to match the slightly exaggerated nod. _"Um,...uh-huh."_

The older man smirked. _"Hey, smart-guy. There are three possible answers to that question here,..."_ he paused, his smirk turning into a slight grin, _"...one of them is soaking in the spa, and the other two are playing ... Space Paranoids."_

Sam chuckled, suppressing a grin of his own as he started down the hallway towards the back door. _"Got it."_

Kevin sat leaning back against the smooth tiles, his arms stretched beside him along the concrete edges of the spa as soothing hot water from the jets pounded gently against his back and shoulders. Eyes closed in peaceful relaxation, he had simply listened to the soft, aerated whisper of the jets as it blended with the bubbling of the waters, until the combined sounds had lulled him into a place of non-thought. He'd sat that way for many moments, until the passing of the moments no longer mattered.

The thing which finally broke the blissful hypnotic lull was the abrupt lack of sound, as the timer reached the end of its cycle and the spa's propulsion motor cut off suddenly, slowing the bubbling waters to a gentle swirl and then to stillness around him. He didn't move or open his eyes, and instead sat there peacefully enjoying the silence.

Until he heard the soft whoosh of the sliding doors opening across the patio.  
>He didn't move or open his eyes at first.<br>But in the absence of a voice, coupled with the soft shuffle of approaching footsteps, his curiosity got the better of him and he finally opened his eyes, then gave a soft smile.

_"Sam...you're back."_

His father's voice was so calm and so quiet that Sam almost had to strain his ears to hear it.  
>He lowered himself to sit on the chaise lounge, moving the folded towel out of the way, and then just sat looking at his dad for a second...the placid, otherworldly calm Zen-like quality was back again, the way Kevin had been on the Grid when Sam had first seen him,...as opposed to the more energetic, youthful silly side he'd seen of his father as they'd all clowned around together, all of them laughing at the unintentional comedy show that the former-programs provided so often.<p>

Kevin glanced at the towel on the chair beside Sam, and smiled. _ "Mind tossing that over?...'think I've been in here long enough."_

Then bracing his hands flat on the side of the spa, he lifted himself up to sit at it's edge, his feet still dangling in the water, and then reached for the towel as Sam handed it to him.

"_Thanks. This thing really is transcendental. I could stay in it for hours."_

He dried his face and then ruffled the towel briskly through his damp hair. Then he stopped and peered quizzically through the pile of terrycloth when he heard his son's soft chuckling.

"_What?..."_

Sam grinned and gave a nod at the swimsuit his father was wearing - long, drawstring surfer shorts which reached nearly to his knees, made of bright red cloth, almost a day-glow shade, with white trim at the edges.  
>Kevin chuckled too, raising one foot from the water and looking down at the leg of the shorts.<p>

_"Oh. These. Ha,...yeah,...of all the pairs I had, these were the only ones I could still fit into. Not quite as lean as I used to be."_

Sam shrugged. _"I dunno,...seems like you're in pretty good shape."_

Kevin glanced down at his water-stippled chest and arms, then gave a shrug as he slowly climbed to standing position.

_"Yeah,...well,...maybe so. Aside from a few aches and pains here and there, can't complain. That's what twenty one years of yoga will do for ya', I guess."_

His voice trailed off, and he gave a wry smile as he stood up slowly, wrapping the towel around the dripping-wet suit and tucking it closed around his waist.  
>Then he spoke again with a soft voice and a resigned, peaceful smile.<p>

_"Yoga is pretty much what I did all day,...besides meditating,...well, and the occasional bit of writing."_

Sam wasn't quite sure how to reply...it still saddened him to think that his father had literally lost over two decades of his life and youth – a span which had seemed like a thousand years on the Grid - each day of it spent idly whiling away the hours in a virtual prison which was undeserved...but the grace with which he had accepted it all was what struck Sam the most, and it was part of what made him so speechless now. Wordlessly he stood from the chaise lounge, and the two slowly walked across the patio towards the house.  
>It was Kevin who finally spoke again, switching them to a lighter subject as they neared the sliding glass doors.<p>

"_They've been at this for a solid half-hour at least." _

He nodded towards the interior of the game room, where Tron and Clu stood with rapt attention focused on the Space Paranoids machine, and then he chuckled quietly, watching them through the glass.

Sam gave a cynical half-chuckle and a smirky-grin. _"Can't believe Clu didn't wanna' try the spa. Type A. Perfect customer for it." _

Kevin smirked. _"Oh,...he did. For like, two minutes. Got bored. Tron made it about five minutes or so. Then he went to join Clu. They've been glued to that game ever since."_

Still grinning slightly, Sam rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

_"Sometimes it's kinda like having two kid brothers. Only, they're like almost my age. Well,...one kid brother, anyway. Tron's kinda' like Alan's kid,... and Clu's kinda' like yours."_

Sam glanced back at the two former-programs again, but Kevin just stared at him for a long moment, the uncanny statement sending his thoughts suddenly drifting back to the dream, and to what Dumont had said to him..._make sure your sons are safe..._

When Sam looked back at him, he blinked, intense eyes narrowing and softening as he mustered the hint of a distracted smile.

"_Yeah,...kind of."_


	8. Chapter 8

Los Angeles  
>Encom Tower, 7:50 a.m.<p>

* * *

><p>Alan Bradley walked briskly down the corridor, digital tablet in one hand and tall, lidded coffee cup in the other. Sipping his usual morning latte, he headed for the large smoky glass doors of the Encom board room and he was just reaching for the door handle when the low-spoken sound of his name stopped him.<br>Turning, he saw Sam Flynn walking up the adjoining corridor.

"_Whoa!..."_ Alan's eyes widened, and he couldn't help but grin, staring at the impeccably dressed young man who approached him.

Sam Flynn gave a smirky grin, stepping back and spreading his arms wide, then taking a mock bow. He held open the jacket of the charcoal gray suit to display the neatly-pressed pale blue shirt and gray silk tie. Dressed to the business nines, he looked as comfortable as he did in his riding gear, and he cut a formidably professional presence.  
>Buttoning the jacket, he shrugged and gave a slight grin, raising his eyebrow.<p>

"_This one works, across the board. From the boardroom to the courtroom. Gotta be able to swim with the sharks, you know?"_

Shaking his head and grinning, Alan looked his godson from head to toe. _"Well it's about time. And you look great."_

Sam gave him a sidelong glance and an admonishing smirk. _"Hey,...don't get too used to it. I only break this bad-boy out if I have to, for the heavy stuff. Otherwise it's my usual version of business casual."_

Alan rolled his eyes and nodded.  
>The boy was so very much like his father at times.<p>

Sam stepped closer, gesturing gracefully towards the door with a sly grin. _"After you,..."_

Alan opened the door and stepped forward, looking back towards Sam as the two of them walked into the large room. _"We may be the first ones here, so -"_

He stopped mid-sentence as he looked across the expansive table to see that in fact one board member had already arrived. Then he grinned ear to ear._ "Roy!...Good morning!"_

The curly-haired, bespectacled man across the room stood up from his chair as Alan approached.  
>The two men shook hands, and Alan smiled again.<p>

"_Always good to see you,..."_ Alan paused, turning and gesturing towards Sam, _"...and,...Sam, you remember Roy Kleinberg?"_

"_I don't know...you look really familiar,..." _Sam narrowed his eyes in an expression of mock puzzlement. And then he grinned fully, extending his hand, _"...hey Roy. Glad to have you aboard."_

Roy grinned slyly in return, shaking Sam's hand. _"Glad to be here, Sam."_

Sam took his spot at the head of the table, and Alan sat to his right. Roy sat next to Alan, flipping open his notepad and resting his elbows on the smooth onyx glass table. He was about to say something when the door opened, and several more of the board members filtered in, talking quietly amongst themselves.  
>The last one through the door was Ed Dillinger Jr., holding a digital tablet and keeping to himself.<p>

Seeing the young Dillinger walk in, Alan gave a quick glance at Sam, who raised an eyebrow very briefly.  
>Noticing the exchange between Alan and Sam, Roy simply gave a nonchalant look as he idly tapped his pen against the notepad.<br>The door opened again, and the last two board members entered.  
>As everyone began to take seats at the table, voices quieted to a hush, and Alan stood, raising his eyebrows with a polite smile.<p>

"_Well,...looks like everyone's here, so, good morning. We might as well get started..." _he looked over at Roy,_ "...first I'd like to go around the table and have everyone introduce themselves, since we've got a lot of new faces here."_

During the introductions Sam kept an eye on Dillinger Jr., whose eyes were not on him.  
>The young man seemed unconcerned with listening to or acknowledging anyone's introductions, and instead was studying the screen of the digital tablet on his lap.<br>When it came to his turn, he raised his head, pushing up his glasses casually and giving a perfunctory polite grin, speaking his name and title in a soft voice before returning his attention once again to the tablet.

Sam's eyes narrowed very slightly, watching Ed Jr. for a moment more before glancing away, and then soon it was time for him to introduce himself.  
>He didn't grandstand. No need. Everyone knew who he was anyway.<br>Instead he just gave a polite smile, made eye contact around the table, and then said with a respectful nod, _"Sam Flynn."_

With that, Alan begin speaking again, and soon launched into the first order of business, a review of the recent press coverage and the discrepancies within.  
>Sam focused on paying attention, but his thoughts kept gravitating towards Ed Junior and to the brief verbal confrontation which had taken place between the two of them at the office the previous day. Neither of them had become overtly hostile, though for Sam it had taken all of his self-control not to, and in fact, everything Junior had said to him had been said with an eerily calm smile.<br>The hostility had remained simmering just below the surface. But it was there, no doubt. And even aside from the audacious insinuations, the disturbingly cool contempt which had rolled off of the young Dillinger in waves had let Sam know that he didn't respect him in the least, didn't believe in a word he said, and would have nothing but derision for anything he ever did.  
>It was clear that this nemesis was likely going to do everything in his power to make life difficult for him.<br>As if he hadn't already.

Sam took a deep breath, forcing those thoughts aside and turning his attention instead towards Alan, who now stood recapping the press release which he'd submitted this morning in order to correct the misconceptions and misquotes from the recent media coverages. And it seemed that everyone in the room was on the same page and listening,...except of course for Ed Dillinger Jr. Still staring down at his tablet, he seemed quite content and determined to stay on a page of his own.

* * *

><p>Kevin opened his eyes, blinking and trying to focus on the sea of grayish-black in front of his face. Either he'd gone blind, or else he'd wrapped himself in the bedspread again in his sleep.<p>

Yep. That was it – the bedspread. It inched down from his face as he shinnied his arms free from the edges of it, and then sunlight greeted him, pouring through the sides of the roman shades. He looked around the room, slowly remembering where he was - Jet Bradley's old room. The black modular bookcases held an assortment of college textbooks, old wrestling trophies from middle school and high school, and there amongst the various framed photographs was the photo of Jet with Sam from around the sixth grade. He'd stood looking at it last night, again reminded of how much of his son's life he had missed.

He sat up in the bed slowly, stretching his muscles and yawning, becoming aware of a slight chill in the room, then discovering the source as the curtains blew softly - he'd slept with the window open. He looked over to the chair which had his bathrobe draped across it. He couldn't quite reach it from where he was, so he slowly edged himself off of the bed and stood, running a hand through disheveled hair and wrapping the robe around him before walking across to shut the window.  
><em>...December, huh...<br>...seems like it was springtime just yesterday, back when I left for the Grid...  
>...that was two decades ago...<br>...time sure flies..._

In a few moments, he'd found a pair of sweatpants to go with the shirt and bathrobe, and was padding down the stairs with bare feet, toes still a bit chilly but he refused to put on socks.  
>Making his way down the creaky hardwood stairs, he was aware of how quiet the house was. He walked across the den to squint at the tiny digital clock on the digital recorder.<br>8:15 a.m.

Yawning again, he walked back towards the kitchen, then to the refrigerator.  
>Still not quite awake, he stood blinking and looking at the shelves, finally spotting the small container of ground coffee which had been right in front of him the whole time.<p>

It was odd using a refrigerator again, or any kitchen appliances, for that matter.  
>And the ones now in this kitchen resembled something from "The Jetsons", the futuristic cartoon TV show from his childhood.<br>As he looked around the room again at all the modern furnishings and fixtures, everything seemed so surreal, in a way the Grid had not. He'd expected the digital frontier to be futuristic.  
>And he liked futuristic. But he hadn't expected the technological advances in the real world have been quite so advanced, nor for things to seem so foreign to him upon his return.<br>It was like a culture shock, just re-entering his own life.

Closing the fridge door, he walked slowly across the kitchen, stopping by the doorway to the hall and listening for a moment. Nothing but quiet.  
>He supposed Tron and Clu were still asleep. He didn't wonder at it...they were probably exhausted. The two had played a Space Paranoids marathon last night, returning to the game again after dinner, and continuing with match after match for hours. When Kevin had gone to bed after midnight, they'd been still going strong at it. The last he'd heard, Clu was still undefeated. That hadn't surprised him one bit, and it made him chuckle to think about it now.<p>

Switching on the coffeemaker, he filled the reservoir with water, then stood bleary-eyed, watching as the first few drips of brewed coffee dripped slowly into the coffee pot. He waited and waited, watching it drip - coffeemakers might be more sleek nowadays, but they were just as slow as his old Mr. Coffee had been. At least some things were still pretty much the same.  
>After almost a minute had passed, with not yet enough coffee in the pot for a cup, he gave up waiting, and walked down the hallway quietly.<p>

The door to the guest suite was still open, and he peeked his head inside, suddenly having to suppress laughter...Clu was sprawled out across the bed, wrapped all the way up in the bedspread with only the top of his head sticking out. The tennis shoes Kevin had given him to wear were tossed haphazardly on the floor, shirt and jeans slung over the chair.  
>Looking across to the adjoining guest room through the open doorway, he saw that Tron was nestled on his side, sleeping in the striped pajamas Alan had found for him. Beside the bed was the pair of loafers and atop those was the pair of glasses.<p>

Kevin shook his head. Their two programs in their human forms really were exactly like him and Alan, in so many ways.  
>And it was very surreal.<br>Even more surreal than the Jetsons' appliances in the kitchen.  
>Which reminded him...he needed coffee. He turned and walked quietly back to the kitchen, to wait out the coffeemaker.<p>

A short while later, Kevin sat at the kitchen table sipping coffee, the front page of the Sunday LA Times spread before him. But he was staring out the window instead of at the paper. He'd already scanned the stories, and now sat ruminating over what he'd read.  
>It seemed the press still had a great deal of speculation about the corporate restructuring and some of the stockholders weren't sure what to believe. That, plus the fact that there were a few misleading quotes listed by the media made him glad that Alan had agreed to appear on the upcoming news segment for an interview about Encom.<p>

While Kevin sat staring out the window, his thoughts miles away, Clu came wandering in sleepy-eyed through the doorway and shuffled slowly in sock feet over to the table.  
>Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, Kevin snapped himself back to the present moment, then looked up at his doppelganger, quickly stifling the urge to laugh...Clu's hair was a visual symphony of disarray resembling that of a punk rocker's, and his clothes were rumpled from having been tossed in a heap onto the floor all night.<br>_...surely I don't look like that in the mornings...  
>...well, yeah,...I guess I sorta do...<em>

He gave a small grin and took a sip of his coffee. _"Good morning, Clu...'sleep alright?"_

Clu just looked at him, processing the question, then yawned and answered, his voice still husky from sleep. _"I guess so...except for the dreams."_

Kevin tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing with concern. _"Again?...bad ones?"_

Clu shrugged, not answering at first.  
>He sat down in the chair, rubbing his eyes, and then with a long sigh, he looked at Kevin. <em>"I dreamed of the ISO's."<em>

Kevin couldn't deny feeling a slight twinge of erstwhile bitterness wanting to surface.  
>Instead of allowing it, he just took a deep breath and looked back at Clu with calm compassion in his eyes. <em>"Wanna talk about it?"<em>

Clu didn't answer, and instead simply looked down at the table for several long moments, silently in thought.  
>And then he looked over at Kevin's cup.<p>

"_Is coffee like energy?"_

Kevin's brows raised.  
>He wasn't at all expecting that to be what Clu was going to say.<p>

"_Uh,...well, sort of...but, not really. Coffee just wakes you up a little, doesn't nourish you. Want to try a sip?"_

Kevin handed him the cup, and Clu stared at it for a few seconds before lifting it to his lips and tentatively sampling it.  
>He immediately made a face not unlike Tron had made when he'd tasted pool water.<br>Then he set the cup back down, pushing the cup slowly back over towards Kevin and declaring with a slight frown.

_That's...indescribably bitter." _

Kevin just chuckled. _"Guess coffee's an acquired taste, buddy." _

Clu shook his head slightly. _"Well no thanks. I don't want to acquire it."_

"_How about some orange juice instead?" _Kevin raised his brows.

"_Is that an acquired taste too?"_ Clu's own brow quirked slightly in curiosity.

Kevin just chuckled again. _"No. Not usually. It's kind of sweet,...unless you've just brushed your teeth...then it's way too tangy,..."_ he paused, slowly pushing back his chair and starting to stand, _"...there's a carton of it in the refrigerator. Let's pour you a glass-" _

But he stopped when he saw that Clu was already at the refrigerator with the door open, and instead sat back down, watching the former program who seemed determined to assert his independence.

The former system admin stood with the refrigerator door open for quite a few seconds, staring carefully at all the items on the shelves.  
>He recalled from his self-compiled User-world database what oranges were, then phonetically sounded the words in his thoughts, translating them to grammatical written form, and searching for an object which was labeled accordingly.<br>He spotted the carton, and of course having a picture of oranges on the side of it didn't hurt the recognition factor either. Retrieving the carton from the fridge, he closed the door.  
>Then after recalling where the glasses were kept, he opened the cabinet to select a glass, and poured a small amount of the orange juice.<br>He sipped it, looking over at Kevin warily. Then his brows raised in slight surprise and he nodded.

"_It's good."_

Kevin shrugged. _"Told ya. You didn't believe me."_

Clu gave him a smirk and a frown. _"You told me coffee was good."_

Kevin sighed, correcting him. _"No,... I told you coffee wakes you up a little."_

Clu's reply was immediate and rather flippant. _ "Probably because it tastes awful." _

Kevin sighed, smirking and sipping his coffee.  
>He could see there was no winning a petty argument with Clu, or probably any argument for that matter. Clu was too much like himself...he would simply bat comments right back at him until he gave up just from the sheer frustration and pointlessness of it.<p>

So he changed the subject instead. _"Is Tron awake?"_

Clu shook his head, gulping the rest of the juice from his glass. _"No. Or at least, he wasn't when I booted up."_

Kevin suppressed the urge to correct Clu's terminology in favor of the more widely-accepted User world term - "woke up".  
>Instead, he watched as Clu held the empty cup in the air, looking at it again and grinning, before walking over to the cabinet.<br>Just as Clu reached to set the cup back, Kevin's voice stopped him.

"_Whoa- buddy,...gotta' wash that first." _

Clu suddenly recalled how Kevin and Quorra had cleansed the dishes after the previous millicycle's meal, and now he was inwardly chastising himself for not having caught the error.  
>But, instead, he just frowned and said simply, <em>"I knew that."<em>

"_Sure you did."_ Kevin smirked, teasing him.

Clu's eyes flashed with sudden emotion as he shot a glance at Kevin, his voice completely adamant. _"I did! I just...forgot!"_

Kevin tried very hard not to laugh, thinking of how Sam used to say that as a child just as adamantly. Instead he kept it to a grin and a nod.  
>But then as he eyed the newly-human program who still stared at him with a slight frown and intense eyes, he saw there was hurt in that frown, and he was taken aback by it.<br>His eyes softened, and became more serious, as did his voice.

"_I'm sure you did, Clu. I believe you. That's important to you, isn't it?...I mean, that I believe you about things you say?"_

Clu's eyes shifted for a second as he thought about the question.  
>And then he returned his gaze to stare at Kevin, the intensity building in his eyes, until his jaw clenched and he finally answered with urgent voice, stammering out bits of tempered emotion.<p>

"_Yes! Very much!...because-...when you ...doubt me, when... you don't believe me,...it-..." _

Clu stopped, frustrated, not quite sure what he was trying to say.  
>But Kevin knew, and so he said it for him.<p>

"_It hurts. It feels like an insult to your integrity...right?"_

Clu looked at him, processing what he'd heard.  
>He had never thought of it that way before, in terms of User-like emotions, but, that was exactly what it felt like, and, now it occurred to him that his Creator had put it into the perfect words.<br>He nodded once.

"_Yes."_

Kevin stood, walking over to him.  
>As he walked, thoughts and flashes of memory rushed past in his mind.<br>... _feels like an insult to your integrity..._  
>He knew what this was like. He himself had been disbelieved, doubted.<br>And not only that, but he'd been ambushed, dishonored, defamed, disenfranchised, cast into contempt as a User, slandered, scapegoated, alienated from all of the programs, and then left for dead in the Outlands. Oh yes, he knew how it felt to have his integrity insulted.  
>There was so very much he could identify with in Clu's statement.<br>And so much he could have said, had he wanted to dredge up the past and unleash his emotions over it, but, he didn't.  
>There was little point in that - it was the past, and he would see to it that the past would not repeat itself.<br>So instead he kept his reply simple, truthful, but compassionate.

"_Clu,...buddy,...I understand. And I feel the same way when someone disbelieves me. Especially if it's someone I respect and care about. It hurts." _

Clu remained silent, though his frown began to relax somewhat.

"_Tell ya' what- " _Kevin paused, patting the younger version of himself on the shoulder, "_I can't promise you I'll always agree one hundred percent with you... in terms of ideas, and,...we-... we may differ on things from time to time, may joke around with each other too,...but, ...when you say something's true, even if I'm skeptical, I'm gonna' believe you. I'm gonna' trust in what you say,...okay, Clu?..."_

Clu was silent, nodding, as a slow smile crept onto his mouth.  
>And then the smile slowly crept into his eyes when his Creator said the words he'd most wanted to hear, needed to hear.<p>

"_...because I believe in you."_

Kevin's soft smile matched Clu's.  
>The two stood like that for a few moments, Creator and Program, who now in human form were much like father and child, each silently regarding the other with unspoken understanding.<p>

And then a loud thud from down the hallway startled them both, as Tron's agitated voice rang out in a surprised yelp.

Clu's brow raised, as did Kevin's.  
>They stared at each other, then turned, half-expecting to see Tron rush forth from the guest suite into the hallway.<br>When he did not, they both ran quickly down the hall, alarmed.

Kevin was first into the suite, rounding the corner to see Tron standing up on the bed, his chest heaving with fast breaths, squinting and staring at something in the far corner.  
>In his hand was the lamp from the bedside table, it's cord dangling beside his leg and the lampshade quivering with the reverberated fury of his shaking grasp.<br>The books in the headboard bookcase were all toppled and tilted into various angles of disarray.  
>On the floor in the far corner of the room where his gaze was fixed lay a book, its pages splayed open against the woodwork.<p>

He looked suddenly over at the alarmed faces of Kevin and Clu, still blinking and squinting to focus his eyes.  
>Then he spoke in a voice still gruff from sleep, as he nodded towards the corner.<p>

" _I almost got it!...it dodged and then just disappeared!"_

With his short hair completely disheveled and his sleepy eyes now hooded by an angry frown, Tron looked just like the young Alan during a rarely-occurring temper tantrum.  
>He would have been tempted to laugh, had he not been so confused and mildly concerned.<p>

"_Almost got what, buddy?"_

Tron continued to stare around the room, still squinting, with a predatory scowl on his face. Then he spat with a disgusted tone. _"Gridbug!"_

Kevin's brows raised, and he was about to answer when Tron suddenly glanced around the room in confusion, blinking and squinting even more. _"How did a gridbug get here?" _

Now waking more fully, he was realizing this wasn't the Grid.  
>This was the User world.<br>Then he looked down at his chest and body, seeing only blurry sight of the the striped pajamas Alan-One had given him, instead of his lighted and armored suit. His eyes grew more confused.

Kevin only shook his head slightly, eyes compassionate and a small wry smile forming on his lips.

"_There's no gridbug here, Tron. You were just dreaming."_

Tron looked down at the lamp in his hand, then lowered it, suddenly realizing he felt rather foolish standing on the bed and wielding a lamp.  
>He crouched down and shakily replaced it to the bedside table, then sat down on the bed and smoothed a hand through his ruffled short hair, his eyes still unsettled and confusion on his face.<p>

"_That was... a dream?...but,...I threw my disk,...and-"_

He looked to the corner again, blinking, then stopped, suddenly remembering the glasses, and reaching to the side of the bed to retrieve them.  
>Adjusting the glasses onto his face, his gaze traveled first to the book which lay open on the floor in the corner, and then he glanced all around the room, spotting the row of books in the headboard bookcase. Then he looked back at Kevin.<br>Now it was all making more sense.  
>He hadn't thrown his disk at the gridbug, because there had been no gridbug. And there had been no disk.<br>He'd been dreaming, and he'd apparently reached over his head and thrown a book from the row of them which were right behind where his head had been laying.  
><em>Now he really felt foolish.<em>

Giving a frustrated huff he climbed down off of the bed, went to pick up the book from the floor, and looked at it sheepishly before reaching to return it to the bookshelf. When he tried, all of the books fell over again in a domino effect, and he grumbled in frustration.

_"Well, Users! How ridiculous! Dreams - what kind of null unit came up with that programming?"_

Kevin gave a soft chuckle and smiled, his eyes sympathetic. _"Don't know, Tron, but we all have 'em..." _

Clu nodded in commiseration. Then he reached to give Tron an awkward pat on the shoulder. "_Come on. There's nourishment in the kitchen. That will make you feel better."_

Tron pointed at the bookshelf and was about to protest, when Kevin stepped forward and waved them on, nodding in encouragement. _"Go ahead. I got this."_

Then the two former programs walked slowly across the guest suite and out the door into the hallway.  
>Kevin heard the sound of his own voice filtering in from down the hallway, as Clu spoke.<p>

"_You have to try what the Users call 'orange juice'. It's very good. Sweet. Unless you do the tooth-cleansing exercise first. Kevin says that makes it too tangy, which I think means sour. And, man, I'd avoid the coffee altogether." _

He stifled a laugh, listening to the two of them talk as he straightened the books back into their proper positions. Then he plugged the lamp back in, and slowly walked back to the kitchen to join the two former programs, smiling when he found them both sipping orange juice.  
>Tron looked over at Kevin, and gave a slight nod, tipping and draining his cup and then smiling proudly. Clu did the same, and then walked towards the sink, glancing back at Tron.<p>

_"Now we have to wash these and rinse them, then they go back up there."_

Soaping his cup, Clu gestured with a nod at the cabinet where the cups and glasses were stored.  
>Tron watched the dish-washing process intently, and then mimicked it, washing his own cup.<br>Kevin stifled a chuckle, and just grinned at both of them as he walked across to the table. He didn't want to ruin the moment by telling them there was a dishwasher.

A short while later, they'd had a modest breakfast, whereupon Kevin had introduced Tron and Clu to the concept of preparing scrambled eggs.  
>That in itself was a bit comical, but the former programs had liked the meal. Afterward, both Tron and Clu wandered off to the game room to continue their ongoing Space Paranoids tournament, and Kevin went upstairs to shower, after which he changed into the least-dated thing he could find amongst his clothes stored there...jeans, and a simple plain blue t-shirt. The jeans were a bit snug at the waist, but what did he expect - it had been two decades. He felt fortunate to still be able to even fit into the same clothes he wore twenty years ago.<p>

He'd been sitting there at the table reading the paper for quite some time when he heard the automatic garage door opener activate.  
>Then a moment later, it closed, and not long afterward Alan and Sam came walking in through the kitchen door.<br>Sam greeted his dad with a hug and then walked over to the fridge to get a soda. Kevin looked over at Alan.

"_Hey man,...didn't expect you back so soon. Everything okay?"_

Alan glanced at his watch. _"Yep. Just came home for an early lunch. Or,...brunch I guess, at this hour."_

Kevin nodded, but as he looked at Alan, he could see there was a slight seriousness to his face.  
>It was there, just fleeting, something in his eyes and the pleasant, tight-lipped smile which seemed a bit forced.<br>Most people wouldn't have even caught it, but he knew that look in his old friend's eyes well.

Just then Alan glanced back at the hallway, watching Sam walk down the hall towards the back door, then he turned back to Kevin. _ "Tron and Clu in the game room again?" _

Kevin nodded, and then Alan gave that oddly calm forced smile again and spoke. _"Hey,... why don't we go see how they're doing?... Want to?" _

Kevin's eyes narrowed to a suspicious glance.  
>He thought that was kind of an odd thing for Alan to suggest just out of the blue.<br>His reply came out in a slow singsong drawl which sounded like more of a question than he'd intended.

"_...yyeahh..?"_

But Alan was already turning and heading down the hallway. So Kevin followed him, more than a slight bit curious as to just what was going on.


	9. Chapter 9

Los Angeles  
>Alan Bradley's residence<p>

* * *

><p>Sam stood in the game room beside the Space Paranoids machine, watching as Tron and Clu played through another round.<br>As Kevin and Alan entered the game room, he turned and walked to greet them. When Kevin looked up to see his son, he grew more concerned, seeing in Sam's eyes a hint of the same gravity he'd seen in Alan's. Then he turned back around to see Alan closing the door to the hallway and flipping open the cover of a small panel which was attached to the wall.  
>Concerned and now confused, his thoughts hammered at him.<br>_...WHAT is going ON?..._

He was just about to ask that, when the panel made a chirping sound, then tiny beams of barely-visible laser light reached across each wall at the baseboards and ceiling, spanning from corner to corner all around the room.  
>As if that wasn't strange enough, with the press of another button on the panel a large semi-transparent metallic screen emerged from the decorative cornices just above the sliding glass doors, slowly lowering all the way to the floor and stopping when it reached the carpet.<br>He thought at first it was some kind of movie projection screen, but instead it seemed more likely to be a window covering, and one which looked more like it belonged on the Grid than in Alan's game room. His brows raised and his eyes opened wide, and he looked over at Alan.

"_Okay. Wanna' explain? You're tipping the weird-o-meter here." _

Alan sighed, glancing at Sam, then back at Kevin. _"I don't want to cause alarm,... but..."_

Kevin waited, and then after a few seconds with only a pause and no reply, his chin dipped as he stared at Alan, his voice getting that singsong quality again. _"Bu-ut?..."_

Alan just raised an eyebrow and glanced at Sam again.  
>Kevin' still stared at him, waiting, and then finally threw his arms out to his sides, upturned palms imploring his old friend for some sort of explanation.<p>

"_But WHAT, Alan?.. You've turned this room into,...into-... what ?...the bat cave?...Why?...What the hell's going on!"_

Tron and Clu had turned around from the game machine to look at them.  
>They knew that sound in the Creator's voice - without a doubt it meant someone had some explaining to do.<p>

Alan sighed again, adjusting his glasses.  
>How to even begin to explain this, especially to a man who had been out of the technological loop for over two decades.<p>

"_There's a...situation."_

Still exasperated, Kevin's brows raised again. _"Yeah, I kinda figured that."_

Alan drew in another deep breath, then gestured at the room around him.

"_Alright...except for the kitchen and living room, this whole place is shielded - wireless, radio frequencies, microwave, electromagnetic interference, you name it, it blocks it. Built-in shielding underneath the drywall, ceiling, floors, and this panel screen guards the window. The shielding is the reason the cell phone won't get reception." _

Alan paused, reaching into his coat pocket for his cell phone, then turning it off.  
>Kevin eyed the tiny phone oddly. The last time he'd seen a cell phone it was as big as a shoebox and weighed about three pounds.<br>Eyes intense, he just nodded and looked back at Alan, still waiting for the whole explanation.  
>Alan pocketed the cell phone and walked towards the screen which had covered the sliding doors.<p>

_" And of course, there's an alarm system. But in this room, there's an added measure...the beams you see along the walls are part of a fiber-optic lattice designed to not only detect and block intrusions but to scramble any type of wave that gets through. The rest of the house is about 80-90%. This room,... is a fortress."_

Kevin was now even more unsettled.  
>Not by the technology itself, though that certainly was stunning compared to what he'd known of in the late 1980's, but by the fact that Alan apparently saw the need for this right now.<br>And his son didn't seem to disagree, which obviously meant they knew something he didn't, and that was what he was trying to find out.

"_Alan,...wh-..." _ Kevin started to speak, but Alan raised a hand, continuing his explanation.

"_It's something I contracted to have done a while back. Years ago when the tech industry boomed, Encom started working with defense accounts, and a competitor tried concocting various scandals to knock us out of the market. After what almost happened to Hardington I wasn't taking any chances...oh, you weren't here for that, that's a long story,... but, anyway,...I consulted a security firm, and, well...voila." _

Alan's face was still very somber. Kevin just stared at his old friend, frustrated.  
>He felt almost as though his eyebrows had been glued into the raised position, because he'd been standing there staring incredulously like this for long moments now, and still the explanation hadn't started making sense. Moreover, he wasn't concerned about the how of it...he wanted Alan to get to the point, and tell him exactly <em><strong>why<strong>_ all this was necessary right now.

_"Alan...I know-...okay, no-... I don't know, obviously,...all the newest developments in security technology. Kinda' been out of the tech loop for a while. But,...man, what I'm asking you is – what is all this about? Why the need for it right now? Obviously something's happened, so tell me what it is!"_

Clu at this point was standing beside the wall nearest the Tron machine, leaning close to it and keening his ear.  
>Tron was just staring at Alan, equally as intrigued and anxious as Kevin was.<br>Sam stepped forward just then, drawing a deep breath.

"_Dad,...okay,... yeah. Something happened at the board meeting this morning."_

Kevin just nodded.

"_Well,...I kept an eye on Ed Jr. during the meeting. Couldn't help it, after what he said yesterday. So, he didn't even bat an eye when Alan was discussing the press release issue. Cool as a cucumber. Too cool. Didn't pay attention the whole meeting, and that's unlike him. Didn't even look up much, just kept looking at his tablet the whole time and typing."_

Kevin looked at him strangely, then smirked. _"Typing? That's pretty disruptive."_

Sam paused, and looked over at him, then realized what his dad most likely thought. _"Not like on a keyboard,...it's a small digital tablet,...wireless, hand-held,...it's like a-...well,..."_

Kevin sighed. Of course. Another boon in technology he'd missed.  
>He just nodded, waving Sam onward to continue.<p>

"_So,...yeah, still pretty disruptive if you ask me,...but anyway, so, after he sits there like that for a half hour, I got...curious. Turns out he needs to tighten his wireless permissions, 'cause look what I intercepted...saved it as a document..."_

Sam pulled a small flat device from his pocket, unlocking the screen and calling up the image, then holding it forth. Kevin inspected it, frowning as an uneasy feeling crawled over him.

The first ILC transmission was at 8:29:22.

EDJ_0431: YOU THERE DAD?

And then, not even five seconds later, a reply. Definitely some fast typing.

MCTRL_751: I'M ALWAYS HERE. WHAT IS IT?

Kevin's eyes narrowed with alarm as he read the rest of the transmission, Sam showing him how to scroll the screen. The first thing he noticed was the consistency of the almost-nonexistent time lapse which was in between each line and the reply from Dillinger Sr. Something about that was as disturbing as seeing the username itself. There seemed little doubt that it meant Master Control Program.

EDJ_0431: SLIGHT CHANGE OF PLANS. ABOUT THE MEDIA.

MCTRL_751: I KNOW. I HEARD.

EDJ_0431: FLYNN AND BRADLEY ARE UNDOING EVERYTHING.

MCTRL_751: NOT EVERYTHING. SOME THINGS CAN'T BE UNDONE.

EDJ_0431: YOU MEAN THE GRID?

MCTRL_751: YES.

EDJ_0431: WHAT ABOUT CLU?

MCTRL_751: I'VE ALREADY TAKEN CARE OF THAT.

EDJ_0431: SO WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?

MCTRL_751: WHAT I ASKED YOU TO DO FROM THE BEGINNING. KEEP A HANDLE ON FLYNN.

EDJ_0431: AND HIS FATHER?

MCTRL_751: I TOLD YOU, THAT ONE IS MINE. NOW LET ME PAY ATTENTION TO THE MEETING. END OF LINE.

Kevin looked up, his eyes meeting Alan's first, and then Sam's.  
>Now he understood the reason for the seriousness he saw in their faces, as well as the need for all the increased security.<p>

Sam stepped forward just then, his expression even more solemn. He didn't really know how to break this news. His voice was softer. _"That's...not the worst part."_

Kevin just looked at him, waiting.  
>Sam glanced at Alan, and then took a deep breath, continuing.<p>

"_Did some records checking for a few minutes when I got back to my office, secure line, not the ENCOM intranet. Edward Dillinger Senior passed away four years ago, in upstate New York."_

Kevin looked back and forth between Sam and Alan, suddenly feeling a sickening dread roll through him, and it didn't take him long to put the pieces together.  
>This was one genre of technology he'd been well aware of already, even back in '89, obviously, hence the Grid.<br>And now, obviously it had grown beyond just the point of being speculative science.  
>It had transcended the very boundaries of human mortality itself.<br>Artificial Intelligence. Electronic sentience after death. The final digital frontier.  
>His thoughts screamed at him, what he should have already known by now in his gut.<p>

**..._Edward Dillinger Senior has become a ghost in the machine... _**

He turned and stepped towards the pool table, leaning slowly back against it, his gaze seeming faraway for a few seconds as he processed the overwhelming gravity of this.  
>How exactly does one take the news that one's worst nightmare never really ended?<br>What this meant for him, Sam, Alan, Clu, Tron, Quorra, basically his family, he couldn't even fathom. Not to mention what it meant for the rest of the world.

After a deep breath, he slowly shook his head, face more somber than either Sam or Alan had ever seen it.  
>He spoke just barely above a whisper, and this time there was nothing lighthearted in the statement.<p>

"_Bio-digital jazz,...indeed."_


	10. Chapter 10

Los Angeles  
>Alan Bradley's residence<br>: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :

Kevin stood leaning against the pool table, staring off across the room in thought, his eyes looking at nothing in particular as he sorted through what all of this meant.  
>It was as though suddenly the weight of not just this world but of several worlds had just been laid upon his shoulders.<br>Yet if he thought about it, really the weight had been there all along. He just hadn't been aware of it. _Until now._

Alan looked at Kevin, watching with concern and compassion in his eyes as his old friend processed the seriousness and gravity of the situation.  
>They'd known each other for so long now, and known each other so well, that even with the two-decade span apart and even with the new somberness which age and wisdom had brought Kevin Flynn on the Grid, Alan could still read his every nuance of facial expression.<br>He stepped forward, placing a hand on Kevin's shoulder, giving a gentle pat.  
>There wasn't really a need for words right then. Between them, just as always, words unsaid were still spoken in other ways.<p>

Sam however, felt the need to say something, anything which would dispel the uneasy awkwardness of these silent moments spanning between them all.  
>And so he shoved his hands in his pockets, took a deep breath, and finally spoke.<p>

_"So now you're getting the picture..."_

Immediately after he'd said it, Sam chastised himself inwardly...what a clumsy, inadequate, abrupt thing to say.  
>Yet his dad didn't seem to take any offense. In fact, Kevin's intense eyes shifted to meet Sam's gaze almost instantly, and he gave a small brisk nod to go with the knowing look.<p>

"_Oh yeah. Definitely."_

Sam silently nodded, somehow relieved. Because something in his father's eyes made it clear he was already finding ways to deal with this. His wheels were turning, which was evident by the quirk of his eyebrow, as well as by the way he crossed his arms and stood staring in front of him, resting his chin on his hand and tapping the side of his nose absently with an index finger.  
>This was a very familiar picture.<br>This was Kevin Flynn at the precipice of some rather heady ideas, which were usually right on target.

And when his father stepped forward and slowly began to pace, still deep in thought, Sam relaxed almost visibly.  
><em>...the old man's gonna' knock on the sky and listen to the sound...<em>  
>Then he almost grinned at the memory of what Quorra had said about Kevin's pacing...<em>'he calls it knocking on the floor'. <em>

Alan watched his godson's face, and then gave a slight nod, smiling to himself as he tucked his hands into his pockets and rocked back onto his heels.  
>Sam was okay. And Kevin was okay. And somehow they were all going to be okay.<br>They were all going to figure all of this out, somehow.  
>Even if he had no idea just how at the moment.<br>But he had a feeling Kevin did, so he simply nodded at Sam, and walked a few steps over to one of the two modular leather couches which lined the corner opposite the game machines.

Sitting down, he gave a sigh, resting his arm on the armrest, propping his jaw and temple against a thumb and finger, eyes glancing off at the floor in front of where he sat.  
>This was Alan's problem solving pose.<br>Sam looked at Alan, then at his father who still paced the floor slowly, then at Clu and Tron who stood beside the pool table, silent and contemplating.  
>If he'd ever seen a more clear example of the phrase "a think tank", he couldn't recall one at the moment.<p>

All of a sudden, Kevin stopped pacing, and spoke, brow raised slightly. "_Clu,...gonna' need your help buddy. We've got some strategy to work on."_

Clu was instantly at his side. Patting his doppelganger on the shoulder, Kevin then turned to Alan.

"_Hey, Alan, any chance there's a cover for this pool table,...so we can maybe sit at it like a table, and jot ideas down while we talk?"_

Alan nodded, standing up and heading towards the utility closet beside the hallway door. Halfway there, Kevin's voice called out again.

"_How about a chess set? Still got one?..."_

The older man nodded again, gesturing at the shelves in the farthest corner where all manner of boxed games and puzzles were stored. _"Yep. You know I do. Same old. It's on the lower shelf."_

Walking across to the shelves, Kevin looked until he spotted it, then gave a wry smile.  
>He remembered well the old blonde-wood box which folded out into a chessboard, its hand-carved pieces stored within. He'd spent many an hour rivaling Alan's expertise over this board at Encom during lunch and sometimes after work, each of them perfecting their playing skills until neither could beat the other most of the time.<br>Now it would take every last bit of their combined skills at the game to even begin to anticipate the moves of who they were playing against.  
><em>...it's funny how some things seem so insignificant, until you look back at them years later...<em>

Alan was emerging from the utility room, wrestling with the tall rectangular pool table cover and trying to pull it across the carpet as he walked.  
>Sam stepped over to help him unfold the rigid, vinyl-coated board, and then they laid it across the pool table.<br>When Alan went back to get the folding chairs, Sam walked over to Kevin.

"_Why don't I go get some lunch for us all?...Wouldn't mind bringing Quorra too, plus need to check on Marv."_

Kevin gave a slow nod, then shrugged, his eyes cautious. _"Yeah?...well,...'guess __so, kiddo,... sure."_

Sam nodded. Alan was once again emerging from the utility room, this time carrying two folding chairs in each arm. He stopped, setting the chairs down and reaching into his pocket, then held up his car keys, tossing them to Sam.

_"Why don't you take my car? Then you can bring Marvin too, if you want..." _ he paused, shrugging and smirking, _"...wouldn't mind having the little monster with us, I suppose."_

Kevin frowned, looking at Sam curiously. _"...Marvin?" _

Sam chuckled, pocketing the keys. _"My dog. The rescue I told you about? Yeah, miniature bulldog. Marv's chill. You'll like him."_

Kevin nodded, and then raised an eyebrow. _"...'chill'...?"_

Alan smirked at him, translating. _"It's the new 'cool'."_

Kevin's brows raised. _"Ah. I see."_ Then he shook his head with a wry chuckle. _"God I'm old."_

Starting for the door, Sam walked a few steps, but then turned back at the sound of Kevin's voice. "_Sam, be careful. Watch your surroundings."_

Sam nodded, locking eyes with his father for a moment. _"I will, dad. Tailing me is not a very easy thing to do." _

And then he gave a slow, sly grin, which of course his father matched with one of his own. _"Yeah. You're my kid alright."_

Sam looked over at Alan, already anticipating his admonishing frown._ "Don't worry Alan. Won't drive it over sixty-five. I. Swear." _

Alan added a skeptical smirk to go with the frown. _"Right. Just try not to jump any ramps there, fast and furious." _

Both Alan and Kevin watched as Sam left through the doorway.  
>Kevin walked over to the pool table, leaning forward slightly to rest his hands against it. He stood there for several moments in silence, thinking.<br>After a few more seconds, he slapped his hand down on the pool table cover, and looked at Alan, Clu and Tron.

"_Well,... let's get started on some solutions."_

* * *

><p>The Grid<br>: : : : : : : :

Jarvis' amplified voice echoed across the games arena, announcing the impending combatants. The arena lights reflected in sharp winks off of his semi-transparent visor as he slowly turned his head, spanning his gaze around to regard the massive compendium of programs who were gathered there either by force or by curiosity to witness the digital bloodlust. They all stood, stomping their feet and cheering.  
>Then amidst the lauding crowd and the resonant whir of lightcycle engines, he turned and strode slowly across the grid floor towards the elevator alcoves, a sentry flanking him on either side. As he walked, his expression from behind the dark-tinted visor was droll, unmoved, indifferent, which was just how he felt inside, though he hadn't let that apathy shine through when he'd announced the games - at least he didn't think so, because the arena certainly seemed to be filled with thronging cheers as always.<p>

In cycles past he could have asked Clu what he thought of the crowd's response, but such times were no more.  
>Now Clu was not his master. His master was still called 'Your Excellency', still revered as Clu, which of course most of the entire Grid seemed to believe as well, but Jarvis knew differently.<br>Nearing the elevator, the aide lifted his chin coolly, his gaze traveling up towards the observation deck to the amber-trimmed, helmeted program who'd just arrived and now sat enthroned in the usual chair, watching the games as always.  
>The program wore Clu's raiments.<br>But no, that was not Clu.  
>Whoever it was had rewritten Jarvis back into existence from the system volume backup, that much he'd ascertained.<br>And whoever it was had expected the aide to then serve him just as he'd served Clu, but he hadn't expected Jarvis to know the difference between his master and an impostor.  
>That was the problem with Users - aside from their tyranny, they were always underestimating programs' intelligence.<br>But Jarvis _had known the difference,_ all along. And he'd never let on.

Now as he boarded the elevator in transit to the observation deck, he decided the time had come for him to make that known.  
>He reasoned he had nothing to lose by doing so, because once this new master was finally informed that the captive User whom they'd tried to pass off as Rinzler had escaped the Grid, he would be derezzed anyway, especially since he'd deliberately allowed the Rinzler User to escape...and he'd done so not from any care for Users, certainly not, but rather as an act of pure, sheer rebellion against the new regime. That remained as his own small private victory to savor, and when the elevator doors opened onto the mezzanine he walked with calm pride into the command center, reveling silently in the fact that he 'd chosen to do the right thing, at least, the right thing as he saw it.<p>

And by his reckoning he was still doing the right thing, for there was one final and important endeavor he had to complete before reporting to his master for the fateful confrontation...  
>He made one last brief stop at the operations console, a pretense of attending to his usual tasks, however, this time, his usual tasks would include a slight addendum, which in the end would also qualify as part of his own small private victory though he likely wouldn't be around to see it, and though in the end it wouldn't be a small victory but an immense one - <em>for now within his gloved grasp was a small data chip with a variant stream of the original Abraxas code. <em>

He'd kept the snippet of variant code for many cycles, hidden in a tiny panel on the console, intending to enact it only in the event the Grid ever fell to a hostile takeover by Users. It was to have been his way of protecting Clu's work via self-destruction if all else failed.  
>And now that Clu was gone, now that he himself would soon face imminent deresolution for opposing the takeover, this meant that all else had failed.<p>

So after a mundane glance around the command center, casually he inserted the data chip into the interface, uploading its contents into the main Grid system and erasing the chip in the process.  
>As the data finished uploading, he smiled very slightly to himself – it was done. Over the next few millicycles, the Abraxas variant would be dispersed into the system, and once it took hold, the new regime which now controlled the Grid would slowly begin to malfunction, multiplying each minute tidbit of information it had stored about each of the programs in the entire Grid until its data storage paths became overloaded, eventually locking up. The system would essentially become drunk on its own thirst for knowledge, control and power, and then saturate itself beyond the capacity to operate, whereupon the elite would be frozen and the programs of Tron City would be free again, at least for a short while.<p>

Giving a sigh, Jarvis removed the chip from the interface and replaced it to its hidden compartment Then returning to his impartial demeanor he walked around the console desk, heading for his master's throne to report the revelations about Rinzler.

A few nanocycles later, after reporting, he stood there waiting, bracing himself for the inevitable, but several nanocycles passed and no response came.  
>Only the intimidating stare of the unreadable black helmet and face-shield.<br>He was just about to muster the courage to say that he knew this program standing before him wasn't the real Clu, when finally the helmet tilted, the amber-trimmed, gloved hands moved to the armrests, though not as gracefully as Clu's would have, and then the figure stood.  
>And then came the laugh.<br>A strange distorted electronic sound, emanating from the helmet in muffled tones.  
>It was not even close to the sound of Clu's inimitable chuckle.<p>

"_You think I wasn't aware of that?"_

Then before Jarvis' eyes, the helmet deactivated, and his suspicions were confirmed. His eyes flared wider and he stood gaping at the face he'd never seen...sable hair falling in short wisps across the forehead, emotionless pale blue eyes regarding him with amusement, but with something much, much darker too. The slight grin on the angular, scruff-adorned jaw and the icy gaze in those vacant eyes filled Jarvis with dread. But not as much as the laugh. It was far colder than Clu's ever was.

"_Oh but I was. You see, I sat through a tedious meeting with him,...just a short while ago in the User world."_

Jarvis' eyes flared and his brow tensed, as his programming lurched to process this incomprehensible juxtaposition of facts. His master, in the User world - could it be?  
>Then his master did something else unexpected.<br>He reached down to the platform and raised an interface panel from nothingness.  
>Jarvis stared at the immutable truth before him. Only a User could do that.<p>

"_But this leaves us without a Grid champion, doesn't it? Hm..."_

The voice trailed off.  
>The icy blue eyes fixed on the stunned aide's, and then the gloved hand reached to the interface.<br>At the power of a single touch, two sentries stepped forth from recessed wall compartments, and marched to stand on either side of Jarvis.  
>The helmet re-rezzed over the User's face, the onyx face-shield turning slightly as the voice barked the order to the sentries.<p>

"_Take him to the games."_

Red-trimmed gloves gripped the aide's arms, and he was forcibly turned around, but then the amber-trimmed hand raised, and the sentries stopped, holding Jarvis in place with his back to the User.  
>And then the same gloved hand removed his disk, altering codes only slightly, after which the User leaned close to the aide, speaking softly over his shoulder with impeccably polite malice.<p>

"_This will exemplify what happens to traitors. How does it feel,...to set an example?"_

The disk was replaced, and Jarvis' knees buckled as he powered down into the reboot.  
>Edward Dillinger Jr. stood watching as the sentries hoisted the aide up and dragged him along onto the elevator.<br>Then he sat down again with a sigh, musing to himself.  
><em>...well, at least that little confrontation is out of the way...<br>_  
>In just a few moments - or microcycles, as they called it here - he'd be observing the combatant's deresolution in the disc wars. Then after that, he thought he might want to address the issue of Tron...of finding a way to get Tron back to the Grid. They really needed a Rinzler, and they really needed Alan Bradley to stay in the User world, so of course Tron was the logical choice.<br>But how to get him back here, that was the question. He knew the former program wasn't going to go willingly.  
>He sat in thought for a moment, pondering this. Was it something he could undertake?<br>His dad wanted him to focus on keeping Sam Flynn out of the way, and had specifically ordered him not to go near the issue of Kevin Flynn or Clu, but hadn't said anything about Tron.  
>Maybe Tron would be his own pet project, and when he found a way to lure him back to the Grid it would make his father proud of him. As if anything ever could.<p>

He sighed, irked, and tapped his fingers on the console.  
>Well, at least his dad hadn't been so angry about his own visits to the Grid.<br>Which of course he'd been dreading telling him about, so that was a relief, he supposed.  
>Though he felt foolish having presumed his father wouldn't have figured things out to begin with -<em> there wasn't a single incident about which Ed Dillinger Sr wasn't aware now, whether that be on the Grid, or anywhere on the globe, because he was no longer just the appropriator and programmer of the MCP - he was the MCP<em>. _Reborn as a thousand points of light, millions of them in fact, traversing mainframes all over the world._

But while the newly-transmigrated Dillinger Sr. hadn't been too terribly angry over his son's visits to the Grid, he hadn't been at all thrilled about Flynn's escape from it, especially since Clu and Tron escaped as well. Now his son was charged with the task of figuring out how to keep the son of Flynn out of the way, so that Kevin Flynn could finally be put away somewhere and kept out of the way for good, that way he could never meddle into their business or expose them ever again. And Clu would be a self-destructing pawn in that process, which was in the works already.  
>So, that left Tron.<br>And Ed Jr. didn't see any reason why he shouldn't take that project on himself, as long as he also did what he'd been asked to do.

But for the immediate moment, he had a disc war to watch, and he was going to enjoy the entertainment as well as the demonstration of his own power.  
>The ironic beauty of it was that Jarvis himself would be making the announcement for the battle which would bring about his own deresolution – Ed Jr. had already programmed it into the treasonous aide's disk, as well as the inability to defend himself against the attack.<br>And so as the crowd chanted for more, the User stepped forward to the observation window, waiting.


	11. Chapter 11

Los Angeles  
>Alan Bradley's residence<p>

* * *

><p>They'd all been sitting there at the makeshift worktable in the game room for almost an hour, poring over ideas, ruling things out, jotting ideas down.<br>Alan was leaning his chin on his hand and staring at the chessboard in thought.  
>Tron sat beside him flipping through an old paperback book from the shelves which explained what each of the hand-carved chess pieces represented and how they were to factor into the game.<br>Kevin was seated across from them, leaning back in his chair with a notepad and pen, sketching something which looked not unlike a flow chart. Several pages' worth of notes he'd jotted were folded back over the notepad.

Clu stood nearby, pacing quietly and thinking.  
>More than once Alan had glanced up at him, inwardly marveling at the carbon copy of the young Flynn who walked slowly back and forth, deep in thought, arms crossed, one hand idly wandering occasionally across the now heavily-stubbled jaw to settle at his chin. In Clu's other hand was the Bit, which thankfully he'd refrained from activating, after the first time he'd pressed the button and elicited a glare from Kevin at the spritely little electronic<em>"ploink-ploink"<em> sound.

Kevin finished sketching, and then sat intently staring at the diagram he'd drawn onto the page, before sifting back through the previous pages of his notes.  
>And then he sat thinking, absently tapping the pen against the pad for a quite a few seconds, until he looked up and noticed Alan staring at him with a raised eyebrow.<p>

"_Oh. Man, that's gotta be annoying. Sorry." _

He set the pen and pad down onto the table, then leaned forward in the chair, resting his weight on the table with his crossed arms as he looked at the chessboard.

"_Alright, well, I'm not making a lot of progress with ideas."_

He paused, picking up the king nearest him and placing it opposite the one which Alan had placed near the center of the board. It wasn't a valid game move, just something to fiddle with as he continued speaking.

"_So for whatever reason Sam was able to intercept the message between Junior and his dad. And while that doesn't seem like a really wise thing to do, tipping their hand that way, we do have to assume it was intentional. Like, Junior wanted that to happen. Because I'm guessing he isn't careless. He'd have a firewall and a damn good one. So it was...a statement maybe?...a demonstration of..." _he paused, gesturing with his hand as though he were trying to find the right word.

_"Control?" _Alan interjected, sitting back in his chair, with a slight shrug and a smirk.

Kevin chuckled. _"Well,...yeahh, of course. Obviously. I mean,...there's Ed Sr. and the whole Master Control Program thing, but-"_

He stopped abruptly at Tron's sudden jolt of movement.  
>While Kevin had been speaking, the former program had suddenly flinched, flinging the book and bringing his hands almost to his ears.<br>But then he slowly lowered them to the table again, looking at Kevin and Alan nervously, almost sheepishly, even apologetically.

"_Tron?...you ok?"_ Alan's brow dipped slightly in concern. Across the room, Clu stopped pacing, and walked closer, to stand near Tron, concerned as well.

Slightly embarrassed, Tron adjusted his glasses and reached to pick up the book from the floor.

"_Yes. I'm fine. I just,..."_ he paused, giving a sigh, _"...over-reacted. Forgot this wasn't the Grid."_

His voice trailed off and he offered a small polite smile, but it didn't assuage Kevin's look of concern.

"_Over-reacted?...to-...to what, buddy?..." _Kevin stopped, puzzled, kind eyes gently imploring Tron.

Tron sat there for several moments. Then he gave a slight shrug, seeming embarrassed as he softly stammered an explanation.

"_Back when all of us were at your home in the Outlands,...we were sitting at the table. Someone had said,..."_ he paused, clearing his throat and speaking tentatively, _"...something about the... MCP, ...and, right then something happened to me, like, sudden fear... pain..."_

Tron paused again, and this time Kevin nodded, a look of recognition in his eyes.  
>He did recall Tron's unusual and violent reaction of fear and panic back then, shortly after the Rinzler programming had been overridden.<br>To see the once-fearless program reduced to sheer panic in such a way had been horrific. To see his reaction now, was equally disturbing.

"_That's right, buddy,...I remember." _His voice was soft, compassionate.

Tron just shrugged again. _"I guess I expected that same thing to happen here, but,... it didn't. Just reflex I suppose."_

Kevin's brow raised, and he drew in a long sigh. His eyes were still concerned, and filled with compassion.  
>He noted the extreme hesitancy and uneasiness with which Tron said the words even now, in the User world, safe with people who weren't going to hurt him, and for him to be triggered in such a way by the words now, still, though well away from the Grid and after this much time had passed, there must have been quite an impact made by the original incident. Not to mention the impact of whatever had happened to him before, as Rinzler. Kevin had no way to know for sure just what trauma had befallen the former program, and he might never know, as Tron himself couldn't even recall, but if there was any way he could keep it from affecting him negatively now, he was going to do everything in his power to try.<br>He looked over at Tron who was now fiddling idly with the cover of the book, and reached to pat his hand briefly.

"_How about we won't use those words again if we can help it, buddy?"_

Tron looked up quickly, brows raising as he retracted his hand and sat up straight in the chair.

"_No. That's unnecessary. We have to be able to discuss things normally, and I'm fine, really. I'm fine."_

Kevin looked at him for several seconds, and then gave a soft nod, acquiescing.  
>Tron had Alan's same stoic emotional fortitude. And his same stubbornness. Even Alan noticed it, because he gave Kevin a knowing wry grin.<p>

A few seconds went by.  
>Clu patted Tron on the shoulder, then walked across to resume his pacing, and Kevin sat back in his chair.<br>He was about to resume speaking again when the hallway door opened, and in walked Sam and Quorra.

"_Hey guys,...lunch is in the kitchen." _Sam gestured back down the hallway as he strolled into the room.

All of a sudden, Clu stopped in his tracks, gaping at the small creature which was barreling across the floor towards him.  
>Marvin pounced friskily at Clu's legs, barking with a shrill pitch.<br>Clu lurched backward, dropping the bit and yelping involuntarily as he slammed his back up against the wall, eyes as wide as saucers.

"_Marv, no!...Down!..."_

Sam's deep voice called out, and the tiny dog immediately obeyed, running over to Sam instead and wagging his tail-less rear end. Then he snorted and rooted his nose happily against Sam's outstretched hand before sitting down beside him.

Meanwhile Clu remained motionless against the wall and stared, eyes now hooded by a frown. His voice went up into nearly a falsetto as he finally blurted out, _"WHAT IS THAT?"_

Quorra giggled. So did Sam. Kevin spluttered, unable to hold back full laughter.

_"It's a dog, Clu. He's not gonna' hurt ya..." _he reached down to beckon Marvin over, petting him and then giving him a chin-scratch, _"...are ya, buddy? Naw, you're a good boy..."_

Patting Marvin on the tummy, Kevin watched as the dog quickly sat up, wiggling and prancing around the legs of his chair. He grinned and looked up at Sam, chuckling. _"He's cute! Really hyper, but cute."_

Watching Kevin interact with the dog, Clu relaxed only slightly, then stepped away from the wall.  
>He was just reaching his hand down to pick up the bit when Marvin raced over towards his hand, so of course he instantly retracted his hand, and stepped back.<br>Whereupon the dog sniffed at the bit, grabbed it in his mouth and took off with it over to the far corner.

"_HEY!"_ Clu was incensed, staring incredulously.

"_Maaarv,...noooo..."_ Laughing, Sam admonished the dog, walking over to him and reaching for the bit. Marvin didn't want to let go of it, and he growled.

Sam wasn't having any of that. His voice was stern as he snapped his fingers. _"Hey! Drop it! Right now." _

The dog reluctantly dropped the bit, and walked a few steps away, only to flop down, panting and resting his head on his paws.  
>Sam chuckled, picking up the bit, wiping it against his shirt to dry the dog's saliva off of it. He walked over and handed it back to Clu.<p>

"_Here ya go, Clu. Sorry."_

Clu scowled, and took the bit, glaring at the dog skeptically, completely puzzled as to why anyone would find such a creature at all redeeming.  
>He slowly put the bit in his pocket, giving the dog a wary look.<br>Kevin just chuckled and rolled his eyes.

"_Clu,...come on. Make friends with Marvin. Otherwise he's just gonna drive you nuts."_

Clu looked over at Kevin, finding this idea ludicrous at first, but then giving it consideration because there was at least some logic in the suggestion.  
>Finally he reluctantly crouched down into a squat, holding out his hand just as he'd seen Sam do, and of course Marvin got up and walked right over to him, sniffing his hand and then wagging his whole body in the absence of a tail. Clu looked at the dog for a moment, then reached and petted the dog's head just as he'd seen Kevin do.<br>Then he awkwardly brought his hand to his own chest, patting it slightly as if to introduce himself.

"_Hello, Marvin. I am Clu."_

Marv's response was more wagging of his whole body, followed by something which took Clu completely by surprise...he jumped right up into Clu's arms and proceeded to lick Clu's face with a flurry of dog-kisses, almost knocking Clu over in the process. Clu dodged and grimaced, trying to contain the overzealous dog, but then he finally grinned in spite of himself, looking back at Kevin, and finally laughing.

"_Is he...always going to do this?" _

Sam chuckled. _"Yeah, probably. But he grows on ya'."_

Finally Clu managed to get the wiggling dog to jump back down to the floor, and he stood up. Marvin barked, but Sam called him over.

"_C'mon, Marv,...got you a cheeseburger. In the kitchen. Let's go."_ The dog was instantly wiggling and jumping, then followed Sam in a trot as he walked back down the short hallway to the door. The two of them disappeared off towards the kitchen, and Quorra followed, laughing at Marv's antics.

Kevin looked at Alan. _"He feeds him cheeseburgers?"_

Alan nodded, and rolled his eyes. _"Occasionally. Spoiled rotten dog."_

At this, Kevin chuckled and shook his head. Standing up from his chair, he looked at Alan. _"Well, guess we might as well break for lunch, huh?" _

Alan nodded, standing. As Kevin headed towards the hallway door, he paused, looking back at Alan and giving a slight grin, _"...you know, I haven't had a real cheeseburger in twenty one years."_

The older man patted him on the shoulder and gave a chuckle. _"Yeah, that's if Marvin decides to save __one for you."_

Chuckling, the two men walked around the corner to the kitchen.  
>Clu headed towards the hallway to follow them, but then stopped, turning around to see Tron still sitting at the table, staring at the book absently as if deep in thought, his eyes seeming almost sad.<br>At the sound of Clu's voice, he looked up, jolted out of his pondering.

"_Aren't you going to join us?"_

Tron gave a small wry smile, and stood up from the chair, nodding slightly. _"Sure."_

As the two rounded the corner and walked towards the kitchen, Tron whispered to Clu, _"What's a cheeseburger?"_

Clu grinned, tilting his head slightly. _"I don't know. But, if it has cheese on it, it's probably a good thing."_


	12. Chapter 12

Los Angeles  
>27 hours later<p>

* * *

><p>"<em>Bradley." <em>

Repositioning the hands-free microphone and earpiece of his cellular phone, Alan sat back in the seat, tapping his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel as he waited for the traffic light to change.

"_Yes."_ he sighed, pausing, and then spoke again, _"No. Yes." _

"_You sound like the Bit."_ Kevin chided as he looked over at his friend.

Alan glared and gave him a smirk, then repeated his request into the microphone more loudly. _"BRADLEY." _Then he exhaled a sigh of frustration. "_This new Encom voice-mail system is just for the birds. Hands-free is great. Voice-activated is great. But not when it can't understand what I'm saying..."_

He smirked again, imitating the overly-pleasant electronic voice of the system's operator. _"I'm sorry. No Radley is registered in this system. To try your request again, press one or say 'yes'..."_

Kevin shook his head, chuckling. _"Gotta love all this new technology. Gonna' take me a while to get caught up on all of it." _

Alan sighed, pulling the car to a stop at the next traffic light._ "Yeah, well, some of it's more trouble than it's worth."_

Suddenly the sound of a horn honking jarred Alan and he flinched. The traffic light had changed to green. The driver behind him honked again, laying down on the horn.  
>Alan looked in the rear view mirror, scowling. <em>"Oh bite me." <em>He yanked the hands-free earpiece from his ear, tossed the cell phone down angrily onto console between the seats, then accelerated the car forward.

Kevin's eyebrows shot upward, and he laughed, feigning a reprimand. _"Alan!...Language!...I'm shocked!" _  
>Still laughing, he picked up the cell phone and immediately started tinkering with it, fascinated.<br>The car behind them pulled out into the next lane and quickly passed them, tires squealing as it drove on ahead through the intersection.  
>As Alan accelerated forward, Kevin looked into the side-view mirror, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the vehicle now behind them.<p>

_"Hm. That van. Isn't that the same one that was behind us when we got on the freeway?"_

Alan glanced over at him, then casually took a look in the rear view mirror, giving a slight frown. _"Tough to say. I didn't get a close enough look before."  
><em>Then he shrugged, brushing off the mild uneasiness he felt, and instead scanning his vision along at the street addresses of the buildings they were passing. _"So where is this place we're looking for?"_

Kevin pulled the crumpled up piece of paper from his pocket. Then he looked up, and after a moment, he pointed down the street. "_Should be in this block here-...wait no, there it is, on the corner. Next to the dry cleaners. Hey...parking meter open, too." _

Alan signaled, then veered the car over into the far lane, braking slowly and preparing to parallel park. Just as he put the car into reverse, the van which had been behind them drove slowly past.  
>Kevin eyed it as it turned the corner, and was about to say something when Alan's cell phone rang. He looked down at the ringing phone in his hand. The lighted digital display read, "Flynn, Sam", the letters illuminated across a picture of Sam with Marvin.<p>

"_Ha! Man, LCD tech sure has boomed. It's Sam. Want me to answer it?"_

Alan nodded, still wrestling with the steering wheel as he backed the car into the parallel space.

Kevin stared at the phone for a minute, then finally found the button and put the phone to his ear. _"Hey kiddo. It's me."_

There was a slight hesitation, and then he heard his own voice on the other end of the line.

"_...I'm...not kiddo."_

Kevin grinned, surprised. He looked over at Alan as he spoke. _"Well,...hey Clu! What's up, buddy?" _

There was a soft digital beeping tone on the line, and then a click. He paused, holding the phone out to look at it, then returning it to his ear. _"Hello?...Clu?...you there?..."_

"_Yes. I'm -" _Clu's voice stopped abruptly, and then Kevin could hear Sam's voice in the background too. He listened to the dialogue between the two of them.

"_Clu,..hey, what...gimme' that!..."_

"_What - I only called Alan."_

"_Okay well-...fine...yeah, but next time ask me first, alright?"_

"_Alright. I'm sorry."_

Another pause, and then Clu's voice came back on the line. _"Kevin?..."_

Kevin grinned again. _"Yeah, buddy. I'm here. Whatcha' need?"_

There was another pause. A long one.  
>And then a sigh, after which his own voice spoke again, sounding somewhat sheepish.<p>

"_...Tron and I wanted go with you."_

Kevin frowned slightly.  
>Somehow he just knew that Tron wasn't the one who had problems with the two of them having stayed behind.<br>It was Clu who had the issue with it. And that was evident, from the sound of his voice.

Alan was looking at Kevin from the driver's seat with raised eyebrows.  
>Kevin eyed him, shaking his head dismissively, and then continued, his casual drawl taking on a slight sing-song edge.<p>

"_Clu,... we've-... we've already been through this..."_ he paused, rubbing his eyes and running a hand through his hair, _"...buddy, you-...you look just like me. Yours is the only face the public knows to remember me by. And yeah, Tron looks a lot like Alan did,...but he could pass for a son now. But you - ...you can't be walking around looking exactly like me,...not with what all's going on. That's why we're doing this,...remember?"_

After a few seconds, Clu sighed and spoke again. _"I know. But I wanted to go. I want to see the User world too."_

"_And you will, buddy,...you will..."_he paused, giving a soft sigh.

As frustrating as it was to have to explain this yet again, Kevin felt compassion for the former program, because in many ways Clu was just like a child...impatient, impulsive, his mind always working overtime to figure things out. And the User world was a wholly new experience for him, with a lot to figure out, not the least of which being his own emotions, and the motives of others.  
>The MCP issue and the Grid just added more stress and constraint which shouldn't have to be there, and all of it combined was a lot for the newly-human Clu to process.<br>Plus, to add to that, Clu was just simply going stir-crazy being basically shut indoors for two and a half days.  
>Along with being completely unaccustomed to the User world, he wasn't used to not having his freedom, to not being active.<br>And Kevin knew that. Which was why he reigned in his own impatience, and spoke in a softer, more compassionate voice.

"_Okay, look at it this way. ..Alan and I are on a mission. The whole point of this mission is to gather what we need so that next time you can go with us. So we all won't have to be so worried about you being seen." _

He paused, but Clu didn't answer.  
>Only a sigh came from the other end of the line.<br>So Kevin continued, trying to find a way to help Clu out of his doldrums.

"_...and your mission,...Clu,... until we get back...is... work with Sam on the computer. I'm gonna' need your help and expertise with that so we can get a game plan going...okay?"_

He could tell Clu was smiling when he heard the sound of his voice. _"Okay. I will. You can count on me."_

"_I know I can, buddy. And I'm proud of that. I'll see you soon."_

A moment later, he was disconnecting the call, and shaking his head with a wry smile.  
>Alan looked over at him.<p>

"_Getting a little instant karma there, aren't you? With the infamous 'Flynn impatience'. He's a lot like you were, you know?"_

Kevin shrugged as they got out of the car. _"Well, yeah,...guess so, but,...here in the real world he's so much more-...naïve, emotional. Definitely more intense than I ever was."_

Alan raised an eyebrow as he fed coins into the meter. _"I don't know...you're a pretty intense guy. And not really naïve, but definitely idealistic. Much more so when you were...well,...his age. Maybe you're just not used to seeing yourself from the outside."_

Kevin looked at him a moment, trying to think up something flippant to say.  
>But just then they passed a store window, and he stopped, distracted by his own reflection.<br>He stood looking at the generous scruff still adorning his face, and turning his head side to side in the sunlight. Then he chuckled.

"_Hm. Guess it is pretty weird seeing me with a beard, huh? I trimmed it down some. Kinda like it. Think I'll keep it, for a while." _

"_Even with it, to me you still look like Kevin Fl-..."_ Alan stopped himself, remembering they were out in public within earshot of others, _"...but most folks would never make the connection. The beard does help. Clu's going to love having one, I'm sure."_

Kevin gave a half-chuckle._ "Yeah, he's less than thrilled. His hasn't even really grown out much yet and he's scratching at his jaws like he's got ants. Drives him nuts. Just has to get used to it, that's all."_

They stopped in front of the theatrical supply store, and Kevin looked up at the sign. _"This must be it."_

Alan looked at him, slightly puzzled. _"I thought you'd been here before?"_

Kevin opened the door, gesturing for him to enter first. "_Nope. Looked it up in the yellow pages. That is, after I finally found the phone books." _

Alan tilted his head slightly, giving a surprised smirk. _"Hm. Forgot I had those. Usually just use the internet to look up numbers."_

"_Yeah, haven't braved that frontier yet. Clu's learning all about networking today though, with Sam."_

Alan's brows raised. _"Learning the entirety of networking and internet protocols, in one day?"_

"_He could learn 'em in an hour. Less, probably. Learns fast. He was a hacker program, and then the system admin. He may seem _naïve, but he's brilliant._"_

Kevin shrugged, following Alan into the store. Both men stopped and stood staring around at the theatrical supply shop.  
>The place was overwhelming, completely filled with all sorts of costumes, shoes, wigs, and various theatrical props.<br>Shelves with every kind of hat and mask imaginable lined the walls.

Immediately the sales clerk walked over to greet them, smiling pleasantly. _"May I help you?"_

Alan gave her a polite nod, then looked at Kevin, who was staring at the racks of elaborate costumes which lined the far wall. Seeing that Kevin was apparently not paying attention, he looked back at the sales clerk, stuck his hands in his pockets and cleared his throat.

"_Yes. Please. Need to find man's wig."_

The young girl looked at him and nodded, glancing up at his silvered, short-cropped hair. _"Okay. Well, do you know what style you'd like? What color?"_

Alan was only halfway paying attention to her, his gaze traveling up to the shelves which were full of rows and rows of mannequin-heads, all of which had wigs on them. He shrugged, looking over at Kevin as he spoke. _"Something long-ish, right,...like, shoulder length, maybe?...not sure about the color."_

"_Well, we have a few longer styles, not many...but,..." _The young girl paused and stepped closer to Alan, looking up at his head, _"...do you know what size you'd wear?"_

He looked at her, surprised.

"_Hm? What? Oh. No, ...it's...for him."_ Then he hiked his thumb at Kevin, suddenly feeling a bit awkward.

The sales clerk turned her attention to Kevin, who was also staring at all the various wigs lining the shelves. _"Okay sir. Do you know what size, and what color?"_

"_Not sure about the color...just depends on what you've got,...but-...wow, there really are wig sizes, huh? I just always thought wigs were wigs. One size fits all sort of thing."_

The girl smiled, shaking her head slightly. _"Well, it's that way with some wigs. Is this for a costume or everyday wear?"_

As the girl's voice trailed off, Kevin shook his head. _"Everyday. It needs to look like my own hair."_

The sales clerk nodded, turning to lead them over towards the shelves of wigs. _"You'll want a human hair wig. Those are much more natural looking. Let me show you what we have in stock."_

: : : :

Forty five minutes later, after much debating over which style was best, they finally emerged from the store.  
>Kevin was carrying the plastic bag with the boxed wig inside, the bag slung over his shoulder.<p>

"_This one's the better choice. She recommended that other one, but I'm tellin' you,...woulda' made him look like Bon Jovi. I couldn't even keep a straight face looking at myself in it."_

Alan smirked. _"And what's wrong with Bon Jovi? Besides, I thought you looked more Spinal Tap, myself. Oh, just so you'll know, Bon Jovi has short hair now."_

Kevin sighed. _"Huh. Short hair. Can't picture that. Man, is anything still the same as it used to be?"_

As they reached the car, Alan looked up, then frowned and pointed up the street, where a long line of cars now sat idling. _"Yep. Los Angeles traffic's still every bit as bad. It's rush hour now"_

Kevin squinted, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the late afternoon sun as he stared at the traffic standstill. _"Yeah. Looks pretty bleak."_

They got in the car, but Alan didn't start the engine right away.  
>Instead he sat staring ahead. Kevin looked over at him expectantly. <em>"What's the plan?"<em>

"_Hm. I was just thinking. There's a Ralph's up there, about three blocks down. We could duck in there awhile, wait out traffic, grab a few things for dinner, odds and ends."_

Kevin looked up the street, then looked back at him, raising an eyebrow. _"Ralphs?"_

Alan nodded, then it hit him. _"Oh. Sorry, Flynn. You missed that one too. Yeah, used to be the Giant. Now it's Ralph's."_

"_Ralphs." _Kevin just chuckled and shook his head. "_Okay. Sure. Why not."_

Then he squinted again._ "Hey, ... you don't happen to have an extra pair of sunglasses in here, do ya? Sun's just brutal this time of day. My eyes just aren't used to it." _

Reaching past Kevin, Alan rummaged around in the glove box until he found a pair of Ray-Bans which had belonged to Jet. _"Here. Try these. May be a little scratched up, but, maybe you can still..."_

His voice trailed off as he watched Kevin trying on the glasses and looking around the car to test them out. _"No, they're fine, they're good." _He turned to look at Alan, and grinned. _"Whaddya' think?"_

Alan smirked._ "Somehow, they're just...you."_

Looking around at the cars now lining up in both lanes of the street, Alan sighed. _"What are the chances you feel like walking it? Think that's too risky,... I mean, for being spotted?"_

Kevin thought about it, then flipped down the visor, glancing into the mirror on it. "_No, should be alright. I mean with these glasses on, and the beard..."_

Alan looked at him, finishing his sentence. _"...you just look like an average L.A. dude."_

Flipping the visor back into position, Kevin raised an eyebrow, and looked at Alan. _"I was kinda' hopin' for above-average, Alan, but, … average'll do, I guess."_

Alan rolled his eyes and reached for the door handle. _"Egomaniac. Let's go." _

After stopping to feed coins into the meter the two of them headed up the sidewalk.  
>With the heavy traffic, and idling cars lining both sides of the street in a long line, neither of them noticed the van which was parked halfway down the street on the previous block.<p>

* * *

><p>Los Angeles<br>Alan Bradley's residence  
>: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :<p>

Clu stood before the hallway mirror, staring oddly at his reflection.  
>Slowly he raked long fingers through the wig, grabbing a few of the light brown strands and twisted the slightly-wavy strands around his fingers, and then his hands traveled instead to the short beard growth on his face, tracing the light brown hairs which now shaded his cheeks and chin. He grinned.<p>

"_I don't look like myself." _

Kevin stood leaning against the hall doorway, grinning back at him. _"That's the idea, buddy."_

Alan was coming down the stairs just then. He stopped when he got a look at Clu. "_There's a rock star in my living room."_

Kevin turned around, nodding. _"Yeah, kinda looks like it, doesn't he? Looks like he's about eighteen years old now. Man, I'm jealous. My hair was never that long."_

Alan tilted his head as he approached them, getting a better look at Clu. _"Reminds me of a kid singer, one of those grunge bands Jet used to listen to. No idea what the group's called, but he looks like him."_

"_Grunge?"_ Kevin's brows raised.

Alan nodded, walking into the living room as Kevin followed. _"It's like hard rock, but more depressing. Lots of distortion."_

Just then Clu turned from the mirror, walking in to join them while still fiddling idly with the ends of the wig. _"Why can't I just grow my own hair out to this length?"_

"_You can, buddy. But it'll take a couple of years, maybe three. That's a long time to sit in the house waiting for your hair to grow before you can walk around in the world. You'd go up a wall cooped up in here for that long. I know I would."_

Clu nodded. Recalling what he'd studied of User physiology, he mentally filed away amongst the facts he'd just learned the new fact that protein takes a significant amount of time to replicate itself.  
>There were many differences between Users and programs, and hair was something he'd never given any thought to before. His just was part of his programming, and it looked just like his Creator's had at the time he'd been created.<br>But now that he was for all practical purposes a User, this meant his hair would grow just like his beard was growing, the thought of which intrigued him.  
>However, since it grew slowly, he didn't fancy the thought of staying completely indoors for even the two days' they'd been there, much less for two years or more.<br>Years were not as long as cycles, but it was still a very long time.  
>So he resigned himself that he'd simply have to get accustomed to wearing this wig if he was going to stay in the User world, at least when out in public.<br>That would allow him at least some modicum of freedom to leave the house, and it would protect Kevin too.  
>He scratched at his chin again, and was about to ask when the beard would perhaps stop being so itchy, when he heard footsteps on the stairs, and turned around.<p>

Tron stopped at the foot of the stairs, took one look at Clu, and laughed.  
>Clu immediately frowned at him.<p>

"_What are you laughing at?"_

Kevin closed his eyes, trying hard not to laugh himself. Alan tucked his chin down and stared at his shoes, suppressing laughter with all of his will.

Tron shook his head, stifling his own mirth with a polite hand over his mouth. _"I'm sorry...I just,...wasn't expecting it, that's all. But, it looks, very nice actually. I almost didn't recognize you."_

The now long-haired and slightly bearded Clu continued to eye him suspiciously.  
>Still frowning, he looked at Kevin, who only patted him on the shoulder and then chuckled as he passed through to the kitchen.<p>

"_Clu,...'s alright, buddy. You're good. Lighten up. Stop worrying. C'mon, you two,...come help me fix dinner. We're gonna give Alan some time to relax."_

Tron and Clu followed Kevin into the kitchen.  
>Alan stayed in the living room, but he wasn't relaxing.<br>Instead he was trying to check his voice-mail messages again, and having a battle of wills with the cell phone reception.  
>Finally he gave up and walked to the land-line telephone, picking up the handset and dialing in to the Encom switchboard.<p>

A couple of minutes later he hung up the phone, and walked slowly into the kitchen.

Tron and Clu were rinsing fresh vegetables in the sink.  
>Kevin stood beside the counter, chopping broccoli into small sections and throwing them into the old wok he'd found in the cabinet.<br>He glanced up from the counter as Alan walked in, then he paused, frowning slightly at the unsettled look on Alan's face. _"Somethin' the matter?"_

Alan tapped his fingers idly on the counter, still frowning, seeming distracted in thought. _"Well,...not sure. Just, checked voice-mail..."_ he paused, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes, then replaced them and crossed his arms with a sigh.

"_Junior didn't show up for the programmers' meeting yesterday afternoon. Didn't show up at all today. Connie called me because his report wasn't turned in. Then I get a message from Stephens, wondering if Junior was on vacation and griping about not having the files yet for the OS-12 upgrades. Guy's never missed a day of work since he's been there, never even been late."_

Kevin looked at him, not liking the hunch that immediately found its way to his thoughts.  
>Apparently it was in Alan's thoughts too, judging from the look they shared between them. <em>"You don't suppose?..."<em>

Alan's eyes grew more serious as he replied. _"I don't know. I sure hope not. Because it's been far more than eight hours. And,...wouldn't that mean..."_

Kevin just nodded, his eyes suddenly grave at the thought.  
>As much as he resented the Dillingers for what they'd apparently done, he wouldn't wish getting stuck on the Grid on anyone. He knew all too well what kind of hell that was.<br>And if that was what had happened to Junior, then, like it or not they had to do something to help him.  
>Though he wasn't sure just what yet.<p>

After a few seconds of thought, he walked around the counter island, his brow furrowed. He looked at the clock. 6:21 pm.

"_Alan, can I use your cell phone? Wanna try to catch Sam before he gets on the road for here."_

Alan nodded, then shrugged. _"Sure. Though good luck getting a signal. This room should be okay I guess."_

He reached into his pocket, and handed Kevin the cell. _"Press that button on the left and then say 'Sam'. It will call up the number."_

Kevin raised an eyebrow at him. _"Fancy."_

A few seconds later, the line was ringing. He slowly paced back and forth, waiting, and then Sam answered. He smiled, relieved.

"_Hey kiddo. It's me."_

"_Hey...we were just about to head over there. What's up?"_

"_Not sure. Maybe nothing, but, hey, you don't happen to know where Junior lives, do ya'?_

There was a long pause. Sam's voice sounded wary. _"...yyeahh,...why?"_

"_Wonder if you'd mind buzzing by there. See if maybe he's home."_

Another long pause.  
>Then Sam's voice went from sounding simply wary to sounding pained and reticent. <em> "...do I gotta'?"<em>

"_Yeah, kiddo. Really need you to. Not askin' you to knock on the door or anything. Just see if it looks like he's home. See if his car's parked there."_

Sam sighed, and didn't say anything for a few seconds.  
>Kevin knew how his son felt about the matter, and he was compassionate, but this was serious, and it overrode any of their personal feelings.<p>

"_I know how you feel about him, Sam. Wouldn't ask if it wasn't really important. I'll explain when you get here."_

Another sigh. _"Alright. Will do. But, he lives in a high-rise. Not like I can just breeze right up to his front door, you know? This might take some doing."_

Kevin paused. _"But...you can do it?"_  
>It wasn't really a question.<br>He knew Sam could find a way.  
>Because if it were him he could find a way.<br>The answer he got brought a wry smile.

_"Yeah. I can. Just...may be a little late for dinner."_

Kevin nodded as he spoke. _"It's okay. We'll wait on you. Just be careful."_

"_Always. Don't worry. We'll see you soon."_

"_Alright kiddo. Thank you."_

There was a gentle, reassuring smile in his voice as he spoke to his son, but as he disconnected the call his eyes remained worried.  
>He looked at Alan, taking a deep breath and then exhaling with a sigh.<p>

"_Let's keep our fingers crossed."_


	13. Chapter 13

Los Angeles  
>Edward Dillinger Junior's residence<br>: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :

The posh neighborhood was surprisingly quiet for so early in the evening, and the still, dimly-lit parking garage seemed like the Catacombs.  
>Sam's footsteps echoed along the pristine concrete walls of the structure as he walked towards the elevator. He'd driven the bike up four levels without encountering another soul on foot, only the rows and rows of parked cars. He hadn't seen Ed Dillinger Jr.'s Lexus among them.<br>Which didn't mean it wasn't here, because he hadn't driven through all the levels to see, but still he had a sneaking suspicion the trip was going to be fruitless.

Nevertheless he stepped towards the elevator and pressed the button, then stood there waiting.  
>It was odd not having Quorra with him, but he'd been wary of bringing her along for this.<br>He couldn't very well have left her standing out by the bike at night by herself because that wasn't safe, but neither was letting her join him on the trek upstairs. That was even more risky.  
>Not that he was planning on doing anything scandalous, because he definitely wasn't...it was one thing to hack his way into the Encom Tower which he basically owned anyway, but he certainly wasn't going to trespass anyone's private property or home. Rut rather his concern was simply for Quorra's protection, because just on the offhand chance he were to run into Junior, he didn't want her to have to encounter the young Dillinger's speculative stare, or worse, to then get his wheels turning about who she was and where she came from. So, that in mind, he'd left her back at his place, and would go back to pick her up once this brief mission was accomplished.<p>

Once in the main lobby, things were far less tricky than he'd thought they would be.  
>He'd expected to have to do some talking in order to even be allowed into the lobby to access the main elevators. Instead, there wasn't even a doorman and while there was a security desk, the guard had only nodded at him as he passed. At the very least, he'd expected to have to stop by the security desk and sign in, but the guard had simply looked up at his approach and then returned to whatever he was reading.<br>So now Sam stood waiting on another elevator.  
>This one would carry him to the top floor, Junior's floor. And of course it was taking its sweet time. He pressed the button again, as if that was going to help.<p>

Finally, the car arrived, and he stepped aboard the elevator, pressing the button for the penthouse floor.  
>After what seemed like another eternity, the doors opened, and he was startled to encounter the first person he'd seen this entire excursion to the building.<br>The young woman wore a terse frown, not even looking at him or acknowledging as she stepped past him to board the elevator.  
>Instead she seemed preoccupied and altogether oblivious to his presence as the elevator doors slid closed. For a split-second he wondered if she was perhaps a visitor who'd been departing Junior's place, until he rounded the corner and realized there were two penthouse units on this floor, one at either end of the hallway. She could have just been someone who lived there.<p>

Finally he stood at the door to Junior's apartment, debating whether to knock or press the doorbell.  
>He hesitated to do either, and this was the last thing he'd wanted to do, but seeing as how he wasn't about to parachute past Ed's window to see if he was home, it seemed the only other option.<br>His mind ran through what in the world he would even say when and if the door opened, and there wasn't a single one of the possible scenarios which didn't make him feel like a total idiot.

_...oh, hi Ed,...just in the neighborhood, thought I'd stop by...  
>...well, just came by to say 'golly we sure missed you at the office today'...<br>__...um hi,...my dad made me do this...yeah, he's back...and I know you and I are arch enemies but for some reason he just wanted me to make sure you're home..._

Yeah. This wasn't at all going to be awkward.  
><em>...oh whatever...just knock on the damn door...<em>  
>So he did. And then he rang the doorbell.<br>No answer.  
>He stood there waiting. Then rang the doorbell again.<br>This time he stuck his head close to the door, placing his palm against it. No sound, no vibration, no movement.  
>He sighed, and finally walked down the hall towards the elevators.<br>This whole mission was irksome, and he didn't understand why he was being asked to do this in the first place.

Once in the parking deck again, he started up the Ducati, then drove up to the top level, slowly starting back down and looking for Ed's car as he went. It wasn't there.  
>Back on the street again, he circled the building, looking up at Ed's balcony on the twenty-third floor. Yep, no lights on in any of the windows.<br>So that pretty much cinched it. Junior wasn't there.

Waiting at the traffic light, Sam looked over at the skyline. There was the Encom tower looming just over the treetops.  
>He still thought it was ironic how Ed Jr. lived within close sight of it too, just like he did, only they were on two opposite sides.<br>Very metaphoric. Coincidental. Then again, maybe it wasn't a coincidence. He'd started to believe there were no such things as coincidences anyway.

He revved the throttle of the Ducati and sighed, waiting for the light to change, really not liking the idea which was formulating itself in his head.  
>He should just turn right, go home, get Quorra, and head to Alan's place to have dinner.<br>But instead, he was pretty sure he was going to turn left, wind around towards the Encom Tower, then do a drive-by to see if Ed's car was there in its usual company spot.

* * *

><p>Alan Bradley's residence<br>: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :

Alan walked down the last few stairs and rounded the corner to the kitchen. _"Hey, Flynn, I was- "_

He stopped.  
>Most of the preparations for dinner were there on the counter and the table was set, but Kevin wasn't in the kitchen.<br>He walked back into the living room. No Kevin there either.

"_Kev?..."_ He called softly while walking down the hallway, but still no answer.

He finally found him in the game room, sitting cross-legged on the floor with his back resting up against the Tron machine, quietly meditating.  
>Of course. He should have known.<p>

When he head the sound of Alan clearing his throat, Kevin opened his eyes. _"Hey,...just knockin' on the sky a while, since we're waiting."_

Alan nodded. _"No word from Sam yet. Should've been here by now, I'd think. Unless traffic was still __bad."_

Kevin slowly stood up, stretching his legs._ "He'll be here. What time is it?"_

Alan looked at his watch. _"Almost nine."_

Kevin's brows raised._ "Man, that late? No wonder my stomach's growling a hole in itself..." _he paused, stretching again, and then started towards the doorway. Alan followed him out of the room, and they walked down the hall towards the kitchen.

"_Might as well start cooking. I'm sure he'll be here any min-"_ Kevin stopped mid-sentence when he heard the Ducati pull up out front. With a grin, he walked to the counter and pointed towards the window. _"Yep. I'd know that sound any day."_

Alan glanced out the window to see Sam and Quorra heading towards the driveway.  
>A few moments later, they walked in through the side door.<p>

"_Hey kiddo..."_ Kevin walked over to give Sam a hug, then embraced Quorra. "..s_ure glad to see you two...what took you so long?"_

Sam shrugged._ "Traffic was still a little dicey. But, had a coupla' stops to make, so..."_

Kevin's brow quirked._ "Well,... was he there?" _

Sam could see the concern in his father's eyes, and he didn't understand it. _"At his place? No. But his car's at Encom, and his office light's on, so I'm guessing he's in there."_

Alan shrugged at Kevin. _"Guess we were worried for nothing."_

Sam shook his head. _"So you wanna' explain what's going on?"_

Kevin took a deep breath. _"Ed Jr.'s kinda missing. At least, from Encom. Didn't make a meeting yesterday, didn't show at all today. I'm worried about him."_

Sam looked at Kevin quizzically.  
>His dad being worried about Ed Dillinger Junior didn't make sense.<br>But of course it was so like Kevin Flynn to somehow still be concerned about the well-being of someone who'd tried to ruin him.  
>Sam grumbled in his thoughts as he walked towards the refrigerator.<br>_...man,... freakin' guy disrupts our whole life, now dad's gotta' play Ghandi for him?...  
>...or maybe I'm not as forgiving as I should be...guess I need to work on that...<em>

Opening the fridge, he looked back at his dad._ "Well, his car's there. Light's on in his office. Maybe he just got fed up, took some time off."_

Alan shook his head. _"Understandable. But, odd for him to do that without telling someone. And he wouldn't just skip out on his reports. Plus he's never missed a day of work."_

Sam shrugged again, grabbing a beer from the fridge.  
>He gestured at Alan, offering him one, but Alan declined.<br>Then he started to offer one to Kevin, but then caught himself and shook his head. _"Never mind. Forgot."_

Kevin waved it off. _"Still don't touch the stuff. Hey, listen,..."_ he paused, seeming distracted as he walked back to the counter, plugging in the wok, _"...did you happen to knock on his door?"_

Sam looked at his father, puzzled. He still didn't get all the need for concern. _"Yeah. Rang the doorbell too. Couple of times. No answer, but I told ya', his car's at-"_

Kevin interrupted gently. _"No,...no, I meant,...his office door, at Encom." _

Sam shook his head as he took a sip. _"Nope. Didn't even go in the building. Just saw his car in the parking garage. Looked up at the windows, found his, saw the light on."_

Kevin stood there a moment, thinking. _"Can't shake the feeling the light's on but nobody's home."_

"_Wait a minute,..."_ Alan paused, trying to formulate what it was he thought Kevin was suggesting, _"...you mean, what- he's got his light on to make people think he's in there?"_

Kevin shook his head. _"No. I mean his light's on because he turned it on when he was in his office. And that it's still on now, because he's still on the Grid."_

Sam's eyes went wide and he nearly spit beer across the room. _"You think he's on the Grid?"_

Neither Kevin nor Alan responded to him, but instead were looking at each other.  
>Before Sam could get a question in edgewise, Alan's brow furrowed, then he shook his head.<p>

_"Wait. That's...not possible, Flynn, because here's something we haven't even considered – Lora's laser is in your old basement office. At the arcade. Sam just changed the locks, so,...how's Junior going to even get in there to digitize himself in?"_

The look on his Kevin's face was one Alan had seen before.  
>It usually meant Kevin Flynn was two steps ahead of everyone in the room and was onto something.<br>But this time, Alan really, really didn't like the thought of what his friend might be onto.  
>Then Kevin spoke, confirming his uneasy suspicions yet confusing him as well.<p>

"_He's not. Doesn't have to." _

Alan stared at him, not quite putting it together.

But Sam was putting it together. _"The router box. At the arcade. The network...you think he's-"_  
>He stopped, his voice trailing off as he saw his father's nod.<p>

"_Got a laser at Encom?"_Kevin's brows raised, and then he nodded again.

Alan stared at Kevin.  
>And there was that same look again. The look which told him it wasn't a question, it was a statement.<p>

"_But,...no, look, Kevin, the laser lab was dismantled way back. You know that. And the old laser's in your office. That would mean it would have to have been-"_

"_Duplicated. Yeah. Imagine that." _Kevin's expression hadn't changed.

Alan sighed. _"That's-...no,...I would have known about it, would have seen it. Don't you realize I'm aware of everything that goes on at that building,...on all the floors, all the computer labs?"_

Kevin nodded, but still his expression remained the same.  
>The only change was the slight tilt to his head. And then came the retort. <em> "Been in his office lately?" <em>

Alan's eyes widened. _"Well, not, recently,...but-..."_  
>His voice trailed off.<br>Come to think of it, he hadn't been in Junior's office ever.  
>At least, not since he'd moved to the second floor one several years back.<p>

"_I don't get it-...how'd you figure-...I mean,...no, that's a lot of-,...to build a laser, in his office? Aside from the power issue, that's...a lot of trouble...a hell of a lot of expense..."_

Alan stopped stammering and just stared at Kevin.  
>Sam was looking back and forth between the two of them.<br>Kevin put his hand down on the counter, leaning into it and raising his eyebrow with a wry smile.

_"Yeah. I know, Alan. Did it myself once. And as for trouble, it wouldn't be the first time a Dillinger went to a whole lotta' trouble just to screw with things."_

Kevin paused, tapping his fingers on the counter. Then he shrugged.

"_Don't forget, I did my homework on Dillinger, way back. Besides being a genius at programming as well as strategy, and being really kind of off his rocker, the guy had funds even aside from stock in Encom.  
>And backing, connections. Probably still does. All that in mind, building a laser's really kinda' no big deal, ...don't ya' think?"<em>

Alan closed his eyes, exhaling.  
>God how he hated it when Flynn went off on a wild tangent of supposition and yet it all made sense.<br>What was even worse was that Flynn was usually right.

"_Alright, Kevin, alright. Let's say, just for a second,...let's say that's what he did. How are we supposed to prove it?"_

Kevin's brows raised. _"Oh, I dunno'...how about-...how about just walking into his office, man?"_

Oh how Alan definitely didn't like that look.  
>And of course, it was followed by a statement which was going to make perfect sense.<p>

"_You're the Chairman of the board, Alan. My son owns the company. If someone's made major alterations like that in one of the offices at Encom, re-routed company power sources, hedged into the mainframe, without even asking?...not to mention the connection into my arcade, and the Grid? You bet we have every right to walk in and at least find out what the hell they did. And besides, if we're going to help Junior, this is the first step."_

Kevin looked over at Sam, raising an eyebrow. _"Feel like taking a trip to Encom with your dad tonight, kiddo?"_

Alan's eyes nearly popped out of his head. _"FLYNN!...ARE YOU INSANE?"_

He walked over to the other side of the island counter, really wanting to talk some sense into his friend, which he already knew from the look on Kevin's face wasn't going to work.

"_No, look,...you can't just walk into Encom,...okay? For one thing, we have security cameras. And, what-...oh for God's sake, Flynn. No."_

Alan's voice trailed off and he crossed his arms with a huff.  
>Kevin had that unswayable, confounding, stubborn look on his face.<br>And, just when Alan thought Sam would jump in to help dissuade his dad from this idea, he did just the opposite.  
>Instead Sam turned to him, suddenly fond of the scheme.<p>

"_Alan. It's not like Encom has face-recognition software or anything. Besides, he's aged, and he's a little heavier. Gray hair. Plus, you said it yourself - with the beard no one who doesn't know him really well is going to recognize him. He could be anybody. But,...let's say they did. I'd be the one who'd have to make the final call on that."_

Alan closed his eyes and shook his head.  
>This just had 'bad idea' written all over it.<br>Yet he knew that when Kevin Flynn was hell-bent on doing something, he did it. So did his son.  
>Just as he knew that if they were hell-bent on going to Encom, then he was going with them, no matter how crazy it was.<p>

After several long moments, Alan just sighed and just shook his head.

"_Well. Fine. But let's eat first. If we're all going to go venturing into the night playing 'The Hardy Boys', I'm not going on an empty stomach."_

Kevin grinned ear to ear.

_"You got a deal, Alan. I can have dinner ready in fifteen minutes..." _he paused, turning on the wok and brushing Alan back from the counter, still grinning,_ "Now Move aside. Let the kid have some room."_

Alan rolled his eyes and smirked. Where had he heard that before?


	14. Chapter 14

The Grid

* * *

><p>The arena lights flickered off and on, and then dimmed to half-power, still flickering.<br>Sentries and guards turned to face each other in confusion, their own circuitry dimming in tandem with the arena's, and they stared all around at the subdued lighting, then at each other.  
>The center atrium scoreboard began to flood with a scramble of gibberish, streams of indeciferable symbols.<br>A sudden hush fell over the entire games arena, and then a low murmuring spread throughout the enormous place as thousands of programs suddenly mused in alarm, wondering why their own circuitry had not been affected.  
>The collective musing grew to a louder buzz, and then to a roar, as the beginning stirs of pandemonium grew in the arena.<br>Sentries tried to force programs back to their seats, but it was to no avail, as large clusters of basics began to jump the encasement railings.

The distraction was all that Jarvis needed.

He'd been standing there behind the two sentries in the holding corridor, waiting to be ushered into the games, dreading the impending proceedings more and more with every passing nanocycle and wishing there were some way, any way, to escape this.  
>But now,...now this sudden bizarre and miraculous happenstance gave him just enough of a chance, and his desperation made the choice for him.<br>He was clever enough to react immediately. Reaching in front of him to the backs of both sentries, giving each disk a quick turn to dislodge them, he removed both of their disks at the same time in one swift maneuver. The sentries never knew what had hit them, for before they'd whipped around to attack him he'd struck with the disks, derezzing both guards instantly.

And then he turned and ran, with both disks still in his hands.  
>He ran all the way down the adjacent hallway, immediately heading for the first set of lifts, only to find they weren't operating correctly. The symbols on the panel weren't even symbols anymore, merely bits and fragments of letters and numbers instead. None of them responded to being pressed, and the elevator doors didn't close.<br>He gave up and stepped again towards the corridor, only to duck back into the elevator again as a frenzy of basics ran past him. No sentries were chasing the programs, which was completely inordinate, but no less than the rest of what was happening.

Darting back out to the corridor again he sprinted for a few meters, skidding to a stop at the edge of the drop-off overlooking the floor of the arena, and staring down onto the mass chaos below.  
>All at once he realized the barrier was no longer there when he leaned forward to tap the barrier and the disk in his hand went right through empty air. Upon losing his balance and nearly falling over the edge, this gave him an idea...that meant all the barriers weren't working?...if so then he could run to the other side and jump down to the lower levels, then run to the front plaza and right out of the arena. And if so, then he had to go right now, because if he didn't, then judging from the complete mayhem erupting in the arena he might not be able to get out of the place.<p>

Turning, he ran across the corridor, and looked over the edge to the lower plaza corridor.  
>Quite a drop. It might derezz his boots somewhat to jump down that far, might even injure him more than that, but he would make it without completely derezzing.<br>He'd almost talked himself into it, halfway, when the large group of screaming basics now running around the bend of the corridor convinced him the rest of the way.  
>And so, gathering his courage, he jumped down off the edge and then his boots landed with a solid clunk onto the plaza level below.<br>Pixels flew from the soles of his boots, and there was a stinging in his feet which sent painful streaks all the way up to his knees, but it didn't stop him. He took off running again, passing through a mass of scrambling programs, and kept running until he saw the large main entrance spanning up ahead.

No barrier was there at the exit, but just north of it an enormous crowd of programs were running towards the exit, with only a handful of sentries trying in vain to force them back, while also fighting amongst themselves. Jarvis bolted right past them, heading straight for the exit and then sprinted across the plaza, not even bothering to take the multitudes of stairs which led down to the ground level a good twenty meters below. Then reaching for his light-baton, pressing the button and turning it at the center, he leaped right off the side of the tall plaza as the light jet activated.

Banking furiously upward as he'd once seen his master do, he steered the jet away from the arena and up into the sky, suddenly gaping in shock when he saw two recognizers up ahead, heading straight for one another. He zoomed past them, just in time to avoid the deluge of glowing red pixels which burst all around them as they collided and derezzed.  
>He did not look back.<br>And, once he got a look below at the mass chaos which was erupting on the streets of Tron City as basics, sentries and elite all attacked each other in riotous numbers, he did not look down again.  
>Instead he flew with panicked determination towards the only direction he knew would be free of the apparently city-wide malfunction - the vast and undeveloped terrain of the Outlands.<br>It was probably moot. He knew basics couldn't survive there because of power issues, and while he was an elite program there was still only a slight chance he'd fare much better. Nevertheless, it seemed a far more noble and peaceful end than to stay and most likely be mercilessly torn apart by what was once his own kind.

* * *

><p>Los Angeles<br>Alan Bradley's residence  
>: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :<p>

Quorra stood in next to the fireplace in the living room, admiring the framed photographs which graced the mantel.  
>It was a small but happy visual homage to Alan's life...family portraits of him with his wife and son, a photo of him with the staff at Encom, a photo of his son and Sam Flynn when they were both very small. And the one she liked best was the photo of Alan with her mentor, Flynn.<br>In the photograph Kevin looked the way he had not looked in so many cycles, since back when he'd first rescued her during the purge...he was smiling and happy...and she liked to remember him that way, instead of as the serene but saddened, graying shadow of his former self, his smile worn thin and wry by the many cycles of regret and forced isolation in the Grid.

It had long since occurred to Quorra that Kevin Flynn had fared no better than her people had in the purge - he was still living, but most of what he'd once known as his life had been taken from him.  
>The continual scorn, accusations, and senseless lies which Clu's regime had spun about him had long since alienated him from the programs who'd once admired him, forcing him to flee for his life to the Outlands, and all which had been left was for him to gaze endlessly out at a distant city which did not want him anymore.<br>Of course he had always had a smile for Quorra, and a pleasant demeanor, but in his eyes she could see so much pain, so much loss, so much incomprehensible sadness that she could barely stand to think on it for long.  
>What made it worse was that he himself didn't even understand it, didn't know why he was left to exist in such a way...and he was the Creator - he was supposed to know everything.<br>That was why she often found herself relieved that they'd spent much of their days occupied with reading, or with him training her in ways of disk and sword combat, so that she wouldn't have to see that heartrending pain in his eyes. Then in later cycles, he had taught her to sit and meditate, a skill for which she'd always been a bit too impatient to master. But taught her patiently he had.  
>Flynn had been the closest thing she could possibly imagine to what the User world would call a father, and for that she was grateful.<br>Above all she was grateful he'd finally been able to escape the horrible imprisonment and return to his own world.  
>Though many years had been stolen from him, along with his youth, it was good to see him happy again in the User world.<p>

Quorra was still staring at the photograph, immersed in those thoughts, when she suddenly felt a presence just behind her.  
>Whirling around, she saw Clu standing there only inches away from her, leaning in to look at the photos too, and she jumped, startled.<br>He flinched when she jumped, equally startled, but he didn't step back. Instead he just looked at her, slightly puzzled as to why she had reacted in such a way.

She looked back at him, still not quite accustomed to his new look. His face obscured by the new growth of beard and shadowed by long strands of wavy hair, he almost looked at first glance like a stranger. But in his blue eyes she still saw the eyes of her mentor, which was confusing because in her memories she still saw the program who had destroyed her people, almost destroying her too in the process.  
>She knew he wasn't that same entity anymore, no longer tainted with whatever unknowable glitch had driven him to do such things, but although Kevin had said she must learn to forgive she couldn't quite bring herself to forget. As it was, she was trying her very best just to simply be civil towards him.<p>

At the moment she really wanted to just duck away and walk into another room, to chase away her memories and not be reminded of what all he'd done, of what all he'd put her through, and what all he'd put Flynn through. And yet somehow she couldn't do that either. Walking away would be rude, especially since given their proximity she would have to brush him aside to do so.  
>And Flynn had taught her never to be rude, even when she was angry. So she just stood there looking back at him, neither of them speaking, and it was altogether very awkward.<br>Then she settled for averting her eyes for several seconds, still feeling considerably uncomfortable and awkward in his presence.

When she looked back up at him, Clu was looking at her strangely, almost as though he felt just as awkward, though she could hardly imagine him truly ever feeling that way...just as Flynn did, Clu exuded a calm confidence without even trying. But just now, he did seem a bit uneasy, especially when he opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again without speaking.  
>Then he just looked at her, looked at the photo of the younger Flynn, and then back at her with those piercing blue eyes.<br>When he finally did speak in Flynn's soft drawl, the words were not at all what she had expected him to say.

"_I remind you of him. And it bothers you."_

How very astute, she thought blandly.  
>A flash of resentment, then a bit of sarcasm jumped to her mind, something Kevin might say was a 'pun'. <em>...what was your first clue?...<em>

But she didn't say that.  
>Instead she just shook her head, but it wasn't really a 'no' as much as a gesture borne of complete incredulity, while she tried to think of what to actually say.<br>As always, she finally just blurted out what was on her mind, knowing it might push the bounds of rudeness, but she couldn't quite bring herself to care as much as she should.

"_Yes. Sometimes. But you aren't."_

There wasn't anger in her tone, only calm fact, but it sounded blunt, harsh. To her surprise he didn't really react to it. Instead he gave another look at the photo, his eyes narrowing to study it, before training the same intense gaze on her and studying her almost as intently. And then he spoke again, in the same soft drawl.

"_There was something, between you. That's why it bothers you."_

She stood analyzing what he had just asked her. His tactic was very transparent, at least to the ISO.  
>It wasn't a statement, though it was phrased as one. It was a question. Clu really didn't know the answer, and this was his way of trying to get an answer from her.<br>And she didn't like that one bit.  
>Her eyes flared. Now he was making her angry. She felt she was being interrogated, and not only that but he was way off base with his suppositions. Not only was it not his business to ask, but, he had presumed incorrectly, and what he was suggesting could have easily made a mockery of what the true nature of her friendship with Flynn was. It was as obscene as his suggesting that she would have such a coupling with her father, which was basically what Flynn was, for all practical purposes.<br>But what unsettled her even more, was that she was unsure of his motives for asking.  
>Trying to bite back her anger, she just stared back at him.<p>

"_No. There wasn't. He was my mentor..."_

She paused, suddenly not doing so good with the biting back of her anger.  
>Instead, she let it add just a slight edge to her voice, and it propelled her to brush past him and stand a few steps away, where from that distance she addressed the second half of his implied question.<p>

"_...and what bothers me...is the fact that you would presume you have the right to question me to begin with, not to mention any justification to do so."_

With that, she turned and walked quickly out of the room, down the hall, disappearing from sight.  
>Clu stood there, watching her go, a look of dull surprise on his face.<p>

"_Quorra,...wait-"_

He called after her almost apologetically, and was about to step forward to go after her.  
>Until Tron's voice from across the room startled him.<p>

"_Save it, Clu. She doesn't want to hear it right now. Even I can see that, and I'm hardly the expert on User behavior."_

Clu just looked at Tron, frowning. _"How long have you been standing there?"_

The former security program just gave a wry smile, and walked towards his friend. _"Long enough to overhear you ask her what you shouldn't have asked her. Pardon me for saying, but it isn't any of your business, Clu."_

Clu looked down at the floor for a few seconds.  
>Still frowning he looked back up, and his frown wasn't from anger. It was from genuine confusion. "<em>But why not? Don't Users ask each other these things?"<em>

Tron sighed, walking closer._ "Like I said, I'm hardly an expert on User behavior, but, I would think not. Not unless you were asking as to her,...what would Flynn call it?...as to her availability, meaning, for partnership. Otherwise, it just isn't your concern, and more than that, it's intrusive to ask."_

Clu still didn't get it.  
>But he nodded, because he felt foolish for not getting it, not to mention for being reprimanded and lectured to by Tron too.<br>Still he didn't see why it should be intrusive for him to want to know, nor did he see why Quorra was so angry at being what she called, "interrogated".  
>He didn't think he'd interrogated her. Interrogations were quite different, and usually involved violence, some form of torture, or the use of pressure to trick a subject into answering, none of which he would ever visit upon her or anyone again.<br>Simply put, somehow he felt it was his right to ask, but Tron was saying that it wasn't. And she had said that it wasn't. So he guessed it wasn't.  
>Yet he still didn't understand. But there was much to User behavior that he didn't understand.<br>Which was really rather frustrating, since they were all Users now.

He walked over to the chair and sat down.  
>Tron walked a few steps closer, and was just about to suggest to him that they might watch the television while they waited for Alan, Flynn and Sam to return, but then a sudden beeping noise startled him. It was the small device Alan and Flynn called "a pager". It was sitting atop the small, low table which was next to the reclining object where Alan usually powered down.<p>

Tron looked at Clu, puzzled. _"What should we do?" _

Clu shook his head, equally puzzled. _"I'm not sure. Are we supposed to do something?"_

Tron shrugged. He walked over to the table, and picked up the pager.  
>The symbols on its tiny, lighted rectangle didn't make any sense to him.<br>Whereas the pager had been crucial in communicating when the were in the Grid, now it had no purpose, at least none that he could see.  
>He supposed it was best to wait until Alan and Flynn returned from Encom and then ask them, so he set the pager down on the table again, and walked over to follow the steps involved with turning on the television.<p>

The two of them proceeded to watch a variety of short visualizations which were set to music, called 'music videos'. They sat on the floor for many microcycles, staring at the television's rectangular interface, watching with fascination.  
>Until the pager went off again.<p>

Again they chose to ignore it.  
>But then it began to go off repeatedly, beeping every few increments, by Tron's estimation about two microcycles apart. How many times they weren't quite sure, but Clu had lost count at 24.<br>It was definitely annoying, and neither of them were sure what to do, because really there wasn't anything they could do. Perhaps the thing was malfunctioning?

Finally they could stand no more, and Tron took it upon himself to relocate the pager, so that they wouldn't have to listen to its incessant pestering. He tried several options, and then found that by far the most effective was the large enclosure in the kitchen which was where the Users kept nourishment.  
>It was significantly colder in there, but it virtually sealed off the beeping noise entirely.<p>

Once peace and quiet had been restored, the two of them settled back down on the floor again, stretching out on the carpet to watch music videos, until eventually they both fell asleep.

* * *

><p>Los Angeles<br>Encom Tower  
>: : : : : : : : : :<p>

"_Flynn! So help me,...if you do that one more time, I'm going to make you ride in the trunk!"_

"_DO WHAT, Alan? ...I'm not doing anything!"_ Kevin's voice went up nearly an octave, the range usually reserved for when someone said something completely outrageous or he was completely outraged, or both.

Just then Sam spoke up, moving his arm off of the center console between the seats. _"Sorry. My bad. That was me."_

Alan rolled his eyes and sighed. _"Well, stop fiddling with that. Because every time you do it tilts the seat forward and I have to re-adjust it."_

"_Oh. Sorry. My elbow must've pressed it. I was wondering why you kept adjusting your seat..." _Sam paused and looked over at Alan, trying not to grin, _"...hey,...feeling a little testy, are we?"_

Alan scowled at him, tightening his lip until it made a thin line.  
>The look was pure Tron, and Kevin had to stifle laughter from the back seat when he got a glimpse of Alan's expression in the rear-view mirror.<p>

"_You'd be testy too if someone was moving your seat around for you, damn it. I feel like I'm on a ride at an amusement park!"_

Kevin rolled his eyes, still stifling a chuckle. _"Oh it's not that bad, Alan. And I've told you a billion times not to exaggerate."_

This time Alan shot him the Tron glare in the rear-view mirror, clearly not appreciating the joke.  
>Kevin leaned forward between the seats, avoiding the strong temptation to press the button one more time just to irritate Alan. <em>"Okay, Isolated Thinker,...wanna tell us what's really wrong?" <em>

Alan sighed, irritated.  
>This was so very Flynn. He couldn't even work up a case of displaced anger without Kevin somehow talking him around to the actual problem, and right now he didn't want to think about the actual problem. But, since it appeared Kevin was going to sit there and stare at him from between the seats until he spoke, he finally did.<br>As usual, all of his frustration and pent-up anger came tumbling out in clipped tones.

"_Okay! How about this for starters... I'm about to go snooping around someone's office, at,...let's see,...ten-thirty on a week night,...in my own office building,...along with my old friend the brilliant programmer who zapped himself into the Grid with a multi-million dollar laser for two decades,...to find out if another programmer who may or may not be diabolically off his gourd has been zapping himself into the Grid with a multi-million dollar laser too!... Oh!...but wait!...not before your wiz-kid here, who also zapped himself into the Grid once, and might I add, is the owner of the company, first disables the security cameras,... so that you, Mr. I Disappeared In 1989, won't be seen on them!"_

Alan grabbed the steering wheel with both hands, and clenched his jaw. "_FLYNN,... what part of 'THIS WHOLE THING IS NUTS' are you having trouble with?"_

Kevin just chuckled, shaking his head. _"Yeah...' guess it is pretty off the wall." _

Alan sighed, swearing under his breath and turning onto the access road which led to the parking deck. _"Well, at least I feel better, after that little rant. So here we are. Might wanna do your low-profile thing." _

The car pulled to a stop, and Sam jumped out, running across to the parking deck with the backpack in hand.  
>Kevin sprawled out across the back seat, draping his bent arm across his face and feigning sleep.<br>From under the sleeve of his jacket came the slightly-muffled remark.

"_Man, wake me when its over."_

Alan sighed, pulling the car up the driveway and into the parking deck. _"Right. So I'm not the only one wishing this was a bad dream."_


	15. Chapter 15

Los Angeles  
>Encom Tower<br>: : : : : : : : : : :

Kevin stood in the doorway of the enormous server room, after having walked the halls of what was now called the Encom Tower – a term which still to this day sounded so very surreal to him.  
>Standing at the edifice of this room which was essentially the heart of Encom, he marveled at the expansiveness, not just of the room and the system but of Encom itself.<br>What had once begun as a small operation in basically a garage had turned into this.  
>Oh how the years go by.<br>And he'd spent virtually all of them trapped in the Grid.

He stepped forward, walking softly between the rows of towering mainframe components, the rubber soles of his sneakers making soft squeaks against the pristine flooring. He looked down at his feet, suddenly chuckling inwardly - hadn't he worn these same old shoes the night he, Lora and Alan had broken into Encom, the night he'd first discovered the Grid? Yes, he had. In fact he recalled tiptoeing swiftly along through the center aisle of this very same server room on the way to the laser lab, and the shoes had made the same squeaky sound against the shiny marble floors.  
>Of course the mainframe system was much smaller back then, as was the server room...now it had been expanded to easily twice its size and the ceiling heightened, giving the room the appearance of being a vast universe unto itself.<br>Reaching into his pocket, Kevin pulled forth the small USB flash-drive Sam had given him to hold, which by comparison to these humming towers all around him seemed but a tiny microcosm such a vast universe. But it was a very important microcosm. The programming contained on it would allow him, Sam, and Alan to remotely monitor every change which took place within the Encom environment.

"_So,...found your way here."_

The sound of Alan's voice startled him, and he turned to see his friend standing in the doorway of the room, hands in his pockets.  
>Kevin chuckled, idly jiggling the small flash-drive within his enclosed palm like a pair of dice. "<em>Yeah. Knew where it was. Just didn't realize how, ... well,...how huge this place had become."<em>

Alan was walking slowly towards him, looking around as he went. "_Yep,...about three years ago they decided to expand things. More efficiency, what with the growing worldwide web and all."_

Kevin nodded, noting Alan's expression. The wry, almost sad look which crossed his friend's face said it had been just one more of the big Encom decisions which had been made without Alan Bradley's approval. But he knew that now things would be different for Alan, for him, and for Sam. Now they had their company back. Even if for the time-being someone else still controlled it, and the Grid, from behind the scenes, which, was what they were here to find out so that they could begin to fix the problem.

Just then, Sam walked in through the doorway, heaving a sigh. "_Hey guys, thanks for just taking off at the elevators. I told you I needed to run get my laptop."_

Kevin looked up at him as he approached. _"Key kiddo. Sorry. Didn't know you wanted us to wait for you. Thought you just meant you'd meet us here."_

Sam stopped next to them and plopped his backpack down on the floor, pulling forth from it a laptop computer and booting it up. After that came a small flat device.  
>Kevin frowned, looking with curiosity at the small object no bigger than his son's hand, a sleek little contraption which supposedly was for all practical purposes like walking around with a 500-gigabyte personal computer. He chuckled, marveling again as he looked at it. <em>"Radical."<em>

"_How did I know you were going to say that?"_ Alan smirked.

Grinning at Alan, Kevin handed Sam the flash-drive. Then with hands on his hips, he stood watching as his son stood up, balanced the small flat external hard-drive device on the edge of the component tray, connected its cable to the laptop on the floor, and then plugged the USB flash-drive to the laptop.

Kevin peered over his son's shoulder, watching him work. _"So what are we looking at, kiddo?" _

Sam's brow was studiously furrowed in concentration.  
>He typed in a series of commands and scrolled down the screen, searching. Then a few seconds later, he looked up at Kevin. <em>"Ha! Yeah. Found it. You'll recognize this..."<em>

Sure enough, a series of very familiar words appeared on the screen.  
>It was a system monitor log of the laser activity, just like the one on his system at the arcade.<br>Kevin just stared, almost incredulously. He'd been right.  
>And there was the proof. The holy grail. Or in this case, maybe a bit more unholy... <em>Junior indeed had a digitizing system in his office.<em>  
>They hadn't been able to access the coat-closet which most likely housed it, because the complex lock on the door made it virtually like a safe. Even with with all the tricks he could think of to try, Sam hadn't been able to crack the combination. But that didn't matter at all now, because here was the very program which ran whatever lurked behind that door. And here was every last detail of how many times it had been accessed and operated.<p>

Crouching down to look at the screen, Kevin's eyes narrowed as he scanned the dates.  
>The last activation was two days' previous. Monday afternoon.<br>He felt a sickly dread creep over him in waves. This really didn't bode well for Junior. And whether the young man was simply unstable in his own right or was instead trying to measure up to his old man was not the issue. Kevin's heart sank as he thought of the young man stuck there in whatever had become of the Grid. Nobody deserved that. Not even someone who'd declared themselves to be his and Sam's enemies. Enemies or not, no kid should have to pay for the sins of his father. They had to help the young man, somehow.

With a heavy sigh, Kevin stood up slowly, realizing this meant they were all going to have to come up with a much more complex plan than they'd at first thought.  
>They were going to have to not only find a way to rescue Ed Junior from the Grid, but at the same time from the grips of the late Ed Senior, who apparently was now a computer program bent on not only the domination of Encom but very likely world domination as well. This wasn't going to be easy.<p>

Alan looked at Kevin, his own eyes mirroring the gravity of the situation.  
>Kevin crossed his arms and slowly began to pace back and forth while thinking, his sneakers making the same soft squeaks against the marble as he walked.<br>Sam typed another command and began the dump of the system monitor and laser program onto his laptop. After a few seconds, he unplugged the flash-drive, turned off the laptop, and disconnected the external hard drive, tucking all of the devices away in to the backpack.

Sam stood up, and shrugged. _"Guess we're good to go."_

Kevin stopped pacing, and walked back over to him. "Y_ou want us to head to the parking garage,...or you wanna' look around some more?" _

Sam shook his head._ "No. Think that about does it. I'll meet you two outside. Access road, same place. Call me when you get in the car and I'll put the cameras back online."_

Kevin patted Sam on the shoulder, then watched as his son turned and headed for another row of the mainframe towers far in the corner of the huge room.  
>Then he turned to Alan, nodding towards the doorway, and the two men walked wordlessly towards the door. Stepping out into the hallway, both of them preoccupied with a new myriad of thoughts, neither Kevin nor Alan noticed the small camera up in the corner as it rotated slightly to track their movements.<p>

* * *

><p>The Grid<br>: : : : : : : :

The figure in Clu's robes and circuitry sat there in the chair, closing his eyes and fighting back panic beneath the black emotionless helmet.  
>Outside the observation deck window, the game arena had become a teeming mass of enclosed mayhem.<br>But Ed Jr tried not to listen, tried not to think about how he felt as though he were trapped atop a bell tower waiting for a lynch mob to ascend the stairs any moment.  
>It was just a matter of time.<br>The Grid was wrecked. He knew his father was not going to be pleased and that was an understatement.  
>Though that was actually not at the forefront of his worries.<br>Instead he wondered more whether the very system he'd conned his way into commanding was going to turn on him, as it had once turned on Kevin Flynn.  
>But unlike Flynn, he didn't have the Outlands to run to.<br>He couldn't even get out of the mezzanine. He was trapped there atop the games arena, and the elevators weren't working. Nothing was working anymore, and his User powers didn't seem to make a difference. Now it was just him, and whatever sentries remained in the arena. The programs were all running unchecked through the streets.

He tried once again to raise the interface panel from the platform.  
>This time, somehow, it worked. He deactivated his helmet, and then with shaking fingers he typed the code string, waited for the cursor, then entered the request.<p>

_MCTRL/query

Several seconds went by. Nothing. Several more seconds. Still nothing.  
>And then came the deep, electronically-simulated voice, emanating from the very walls of the place.<p>

_WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?

His hands were shaking so badly he could barely type the reply.

_I DON'T KNOW, DAD.

A second later more words typed themselves onscreen, smacking him in the face with icy, manipulative contempt.

_STOP CALLING ME THAT.  
>_I'M NOT YOUR DAD.<br>_I'M A PROGRAM.  
>_I WANT TO KNOW WHAT YOU'VE DONE.<p>

It really wasn't anything new. He'd received the same type of bitter dis-owning before, many times in life, whenever he'd somehow displeased this man who now spoke only through the electronic aid of a computer. It had been like growing up with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and such periodic psychological whippings were the norm. Why should it be any different now?

Summoning a small shred of calmness, he clenched his jaw and typed.

_I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING.  
>_SOMETHING WENT WRONG AND THE GRID IS CORRUPTED.<p>

The reply came back almost instantly, but the voice which accompanied the words wavered in pitch and distorted slightly before settling into its normal sound.

_DON'T LIE TO ME.  
>_THAT'S NOT CONSISTENT WITH WHAT I SEE HAPPENING.<br>_THE GRID CAN'T JUST CORRUPT ITSELF.  
>_I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS.<br>_NOW TELL ME WHAT YOU'VE DONE.

He sighed, gathering his usual blanket of emotional numbness to it all, and then replied.

_I'M TELLING YOU, I DID NOTHING.  
>_THINGS JUST WENT HAYWIRE IN THE ARENA.<br>_NOW I CAN'T GET OUT OF THE COMMAND CENTER.

The deep, electronic voice didn't hitch or distort this time. Instead, it was delivered with even pitch and resonance.  
>The reasoning behind the words was what was distorted, as well as rash, cruel and vindictive, even more so now than the man's had been so often in life.<p>

_THAT'S NOT MY PROBLEM.  
>_I CAN SEE WE'RE GETTING NOWHERE.<br>_DON'T WANT TO ANSWER ME, FINE.  
>_THEN FIGURE A WAY OUT OF THIS BY YOURSELF.<br>_END OF LINE.

And with that, the room went silent. Chillingly silent.  
>The touchscreen interface retracted back into the platform of its own accord.<br>Ed Dillinger Jr. dropped his head into his hands, closing his eyes, and just sat there.

* * *

><p>Los Angeles<br>Alan Bradley's residence  
>midnight<br>: : : : : : : : :

Alan, Sam and Kevin walked through the kitchen doorway, three very tired men. Whatever wisdom they'd accrued during the sojourn to Encom didn't bring much joy.  
>Any relief they might have felt was overshadowed by fatigue and by the oppressive reality now bearing down onto their shoulders.<br>But somehow being home again at least made it all a little easier to tolerate.

Kevin walked through the kitchen, rubbing the tired muscles of his neck, and then stopped in the doorway to the living room, the hint of a small smile growing on his face.  
>Over in front of the television, Tron was stretched out on the carpet, sound asleep.<br>Unaware he was being watched, Clu gathered the lap-blanket from the back of the couch, tiptoed back over to where the Tron lay, and carefully draped the coverlet across his sleeping form.  
>Then he stood up, tiptoeing quietly across the room again and creeping towards the kitchen doorway, suddenly flinching when he looked up and saw Kevin.<p>

His voice was a raspy whisper. _"You startled me! How long have you been standing there?"_

"_Coupla' seconds." _Kevin grinned and put his arm around Clu's shoulders, whispering a reply back to him as he steered him around the corner to the kitchen. _"C'mon, let's go in here."_

As they walked into the kitchen, Alan glanced up from perusing the mail on the counter. Kevin looked at him, hiking his thumb in the direction of the living room, and made a _"sh"_ gesture with one finger in front of his lips. Alan tilted his head, puzzled, then walked quietly over to the living room doorway, looking across to see his former program soundly asleep on the floor curled up under the blanket, glasses still on his face and the television remote-control still loosely enclosed in his hand.

Alan smiled, nodding slightly, then walked back into the kitchen and spoke in a soft voice. _"Let's adjourn to the game room, shall we? That way we don't wake up Tron."_

As they were all walking down the hallway, Kevin whispered to Clu. _"Where's Quorra?"_

Clu looked sheepish. _"Upstairs. I think she's in the room with all the books."_

Kevin nodded, but he noted Clu's odd expression with a slight frown. _"You guys all do okay together while we were gone?"_

Clu just gave a slight, terse nod as they walked into the game room. Kevin's brow quirked. He wasn't convinced. _"Yeah?..."_

His doppelganger nodded once again, but didn't speak. Instead he wandered over to the Tron machine, and stood idly staring at the screen. Kevin finally shrugged, and sat down on the soft couch in the corner.  
>Alan joined him, flopping down and removing his glasses to rub tired eyes. <em>"I'm exhausted. And I have to get up in five hours. Or I should,...unless I take the day off tomorrow. But I took a half-day off today."<em>

Sam was at the table, opening the laptop and turning it on. Plugging in the external hard drive, he glanced up at his guardian. "_Yeah Alan, I'm thinkin' you could probably slack for another day. World's not gonna' come to an end."_

The programmer smirked and nodded, putting his glasses back on and sitting back on the couch. _"I guess you're right. I hardly ever take time off anyway."_

Sam was only half listening.  
>Instead he was watching the laptop computer boot up and run its usual virus checks.<br>Things were going slow, probably because of the added data from the Encom environment patch.  
>He sat back in the chair, and sighed, tapping his finger on the tabletop, then looked around the room.<p>

"_Guess we can't get wireless in here, huh. That's okay. Just wanna take a look and see if -" _

Sam stopped abruptly at the sound of a soft "beep" sound from the laptop. Then he sat forward in the chair, staring at the screen and murmuring to himself. "_Well, this is shiny. What the hell's 'Abraxas exe' ?"_

Clu whirled around from the game machine, staring at him with widening eyes. _"Did you just say 'Abraxas?'..."  
><em>

The former system admin was over beside Sam's chair in less than four bounding steps.  
>Kevin's brow raised, watching this, and he looked at Alan.<br>Sam just nodded, looking at Clu oddly. _"...yyyeahh,...why?" _He had a feeling he didn't want to know.

Clu's eyes widened even more. He pointed at the screen. _"Get that off of there! Get it off of there now! It's a virus!"_

Sam looked at him, his brows raising as he sat back in his chair. He'd almost be amused, if he weren't so tired. _"Clu,...know that, buddy. This is a virus protection program. It gets rid of stuff like that."_

Clu's intense eyes were hooded with a frown as he stared at the screen.  
>He ran a hand through the now-long hair, trying to brush it back from his face and scowling when it tangled in his fingers.<br>When he spoke again, his fists were clenched and his voice was urgent, this time capturing both Kevin and Alan's attention, as well as Sam's.

"_No!...You-...you don't understand! It's not just 'a' virus! It's THE virus! The original virus!...Abraxas! He is who wiped out the ISO's!...the Sea...the-...he's tenacious, won't stop until-...just, no! You have to get that off of there! You have to get that off of there right now!"_

Sam was staring at Clu, dumbfounded.  
>He could only nod slowly, then finally spoke, trying to calm the addled program. "<em>Clu. Chill. I'm going to get it off there. We'll put it in the virus vault, okay? Then I'll wipe its code myself. Just relax."<em>

Kevin was looking at Clu with serious eyes, compassionate as always, but firm.  
>He didn't like seeing the former admin program so upset, but he knew Clu was simply just now starting to really feel the delayed repercussions from what his regime had once done.<br>Though in this instance the threat would be contained and swiftly dealt with, in the past the Grid had not been nearly so lucky, and Kevin didn't even want to think about what it was likely being put through now. He watched Clu slowly pacing the floor beside the table, prowling like a caged animal, and then he spoke in a calm, kind voice.

_"Clu, ...man, ...it's gonna be okay. Sam knows what he's doing. This is one of those 'trust the process' things."_

At the sound of Kevin's words, Clu just stood looking at him pensively for several moments, searching the eyes, seeing the calmness there which was so opposite from what he felt at the moment.  
>Then he finally relaxed his fists and sighed, walking over to sit down across from Sam.<br>After a moment, he spoke, voice sounding tired and almost sad as he stared up at the wall. _"Kevin,...will this ever end?"_

After a long sigh, Kevin's gentle voice answered him. _"Yeah. It will. Soon, I hope. We're doin' everything we can do, buddy,...okay?"_

After a pause, Clu nodded, still silent, brow still furrowed. Kevin just sighed and looked at him with tired eyes, feeling compassion for the frustrated program.  
>He knew all too well that sometimes trusting the process seems like the most impossible thing to do.<p> 


	16. Chapter 16

Los Angeles  
>Alan Bradley's residence<p>

* * *

><p>Alan shuffled slowly into the kitchen, still wearing pajamas, bathrobe and slippers.<br>He looked over at the clock on the coffeemaker. 9:30 a.m. How odd to be just awakening at that hour.  
>It was so very rare that he ever took a day off, and to be afforded the luxury of sleeping in was a rarity.<br>To have rested well during his sleep was even more rare, especially considering what they all were currently facing.

He peered around the corner into the living room. Clu and Tron were up. Clu was had managed to brush the tangles out of the wig, and in the old Cal-Tech shirt and sweatpants he looked like a long-haired, scruffy version of Kevin, which of course still made Alan want to chuckle every time he saw him.  
>Tron had slept in his clothes on the floor. The former program had seemed very comfortable there, so they'd let him sleep right where he was. Now he sat with Clu on the couch, the both of them studying the screen of Sam's laptop so intently they didn't seem to even notice Alan standing there.<br>He turned and walked back into the kitchen.

There was coffee made, so he figured Kevin must be up.  
>He poured a cup, then reached into the fridge for the creamer, frowning when he saw an odd sight on the shelf which was definitely out of place.<br>He sighed, and walked back into the living room.

_"So...I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation for why my pager was in the refrigerator?"_

Clu's eyes widened, suddenly remembering. He looked up at Alan, who held up the pager. "_Oh. That. It kept making a noise while we were watching the television. So Tron and I decided we should put it in the refrigerator."_

Alan smirked and raised an eyebrow. _"Of course. Because that's what I would have done."_

He yawned and pressed the button, then his eyebrows shot upward. _"Good Lord! Thirty six pages? What the-..."_

Then he pressed the button again, scrolling through the numbers, only to find they were all the same number. The arcade.  
>He sighed, and turned back towards the kitchen. He was going to need coffee, because another fun-filled day of 'things-which-don't-make-sense' had clearly begun.<p>

He looked up to see Kevin, who was coming down the stairs, freshly showered and wearing another pair of those godawful parachute pants with a t-shirt.  
>Clearing the last step, he grinned at Alan and sipped his coffee.<p>

"_Mornin', sunshine. How'd ya sleep?"_

Alan raised his eyebrow, and deadpanned. _"Mostly with my eyes closed. How about you, He-Who-Still-Dresses-Like-Howard-Jones?"_

Kevin gave a smirky grin and shrugged. _"Not bad, once I got to sleep. Lots on my mind."_ Then he looked over at Tron and Clu, who were once again glued to the laptop screen. _"See the boys are up. Anything __weird happen yet?"_

Alan sighed as they walked into the kitchen, _"Aside from thirty-six calls from the arcade number to my pager...which, for some reason was in the refrigerator,...no, not a lot."_

Kevin raised an eyebrow. _"Your pager, in the...what?"_

Alan shook his head, then handed the pager to him. _"Fridge, long story, but, yes, thirty-six. I can't even believe the thing can store this many pages."_

Kevin was pressing the button on the pager, and musing at it._ "That's a lot. Wonder what the memory capacity is?"_

Alan rolled his eyes, sipping coffee. _"Sh. Don't ask. I'm sure the Grid will test it to find out."_

Clu came walking into the kitchen with the laptop, trying not to step on the cord as he walked. He set the device down onto the table, and looked up at Kevin. _"It says the battery power is low."_

"_Yeah, you gotta' charge it up, buddy. There's an outlet right there."_ Kevin nodded at the electrical outlet.

Glancing over at the wall, Clu frowned and then looked back at Kevin. Logically he knew things in the User world needed to be plugged in, but he still tended to forget. _"That's going to take some getting used to. Things in the Grid power themselves."_

"_Yeah, well, here we have to plug them in."_ Kevin watched Clu plugging the cord into the wall outlet, and then looked up as Tron entered the kitchen. _"Hey, ...how'd you rest, buddy?" _

Tron shrugged slightly. "_I suppose I rebooted efficiently. However, in the future I don't think rebooting with the glasses on is a good idea. They don't stay on the face too well."_

Alan grinned. Sighing, Tron sat down at the table, and continued his reply. "_And, rebooting with the remote control in hand is definitely out of the question. While powered-down, I somehow pressed the button, and woke up to see a large purple creature singing to me."_

Kevin nearly spit coffee, and then chuckled. _"Man, Tron, your dreams are weirder than mine."_

Alan raised an eyebrow, glancing at Kevin. _"I think he means 'Barney'. You missed that one too. It's a kids' TV show. He's like a big mascot, a purple dinosaur."_

"_Yeah,...think I'll stick with Sesame Street..." _Kevin half-mumbled, voice trailing off as he stared at the pager again, distracted. Then he turned to Clu and spoke. "_Hey, Clu?...when you paged Alan, from the Grid,...how'd you do it?"_

Clu looked up at him. _"I didn't. Jarvis handled that. He accessed the data using the interface in the command center and sent out the transmission from there."_

"_From the command center,..."_ Kevin frowned, _"you mean,...at the arena?"_

Clu nodded.  
>Kevin was silent, thinking. <em>"Would Jarvis be trying to reach us?"<em>

Clu shook his head. _"No. I can't see why he would be. He detests Users, and everything the User world represents."_

Kevin nodded, and resumed slowly pacing while he thought this through.

Just then, Tron spoke up. _"What if it's just a malfunction? Would the pager malfunction like that?"_

Alan raised an eyebrow, looking at Kevin. _"No. But the Grid might. Right?"_

"_Don't know..."_ Kevin shook his head. He thought for a few moments more, and then he looked at Clu again, _"...the Abraxas virus. How does it work?"_

"_Abraxas?...Abraxas isn't an 'it'. Abraxas is a program. He's a sentient being."_ Clu replied, missing the point.

"_No, I mean-... okay, yes, Clu...on the Grid, Abraxas is a being, but..."_ he paused, running a hand through his hair. He didn't really want to dredge up the past, but he needed to know the answer to the question.

"_Okay, let me re-phrase that. How did Abraxas destroy the ISO's?"_

Clu took a deep breath, looking at Kevin. He could tell it was a touchy subject, and it wasn't an easy subject for him to discuss, either. Finally he just sighed and spoke matter-of-factly.

"_His touch was virulent, even his footsteps, but especially his disk. A variant of the code from it was extracted and introduced into the Sea of Simulation,... a code which, of course, was incompatible with that of the Isomorphic Algorithms, and,..." _

Clu paused, and sighed, not wanting to go on, but seeing that Kevin was still listening intently, he continued.

"_The ISO systems couldn't process his code. It caused random data reorganization and fragmentation, and sparked a prolific buffer reaction of their own coding, which, eventually confused and over-ran their programming altogether, draining them of energy while trying to process it."_

Kevin nodded, saddened. Yet still he was fascinated with the complexities of the ISOs. He shook his head. _"That's...that's just like, human blood types. The ISOs, man,...they are miracles."_

He shook his head in wonder, and then happened to glance at Alan.  
>He could tell his friend didn't quite follow what he meant.<br>But Kevin wasn't surprised.  
>The ISO's were still largely a mystery even to him, and he'd studied the realms of the bio-digital extensively.<br>Wandering off-topic slightly, he explained.

"_The ISOs were the miracle nexus between digital and biological. What Abraxas caused, was like, well, like say, in humans, if you have the wrong blood type, you know? Has to match. Same thing with the computer programs. But in the ISO's case, especially. Didn't match. Abraxas set off a mass __overproduction of this randomized fragmented incompatible data, right?...which then spread through the community sort of like the digital equivalent of a chain letter, only...like, all scrambled up and reworded, so it bogged down their processors, created a data over-run."_

Alan nodded, comprehending all of this from a computer science standpoint, but not seeing how this related to the topic of pages being sent from the Grid.  
>Yet before he could ask that, Kevin continued speaking, still pacing, and it was more like he was musing out loud.<p>

"_...so,... if Abraxas is affecting the Grid again, then,... yeah, random data reorganization, now that could be. If the virus was on Encom's servers, and Junior was on the Grid, then it was on the Grid too, and maybe then it could grab the number and page it...but-"_

Then he stopped, pausing to think, then waved it off and redirected himself. _"Wait, no,... that wouldn't account for the specific transmission of the same number over and over. Because it's not random enough."_

After a moment, Alan spoke. _"What if this is Junior? Could it be his cry for help?"_

Kevin looked at him.  
>So did Clu and Tron.<br>He could see he definitely had their attention, so he continued.

"_Look,...he pages us thirty six times, right? If he's stuck there, maybe he's trying to reach the User world in any way he can, just by repeating the same number again and again, and hoping we respond to it,... if only just for the purpose of annoying us enough until we help him?"_

Kevin looked at Alan, considering it.

Clu spoke up just then. _"Yeah, well, definitely annoying. That's why we put the pager in the refrigerator. It just kept going off repeatedly."_

Kevin raised an eyebrow. This made sense. He looked at Clu. _"Okay. Say you're right. Say it was Junior paging us. He would be doing that from,... what, the arena? Command center?"_

Clu nodded. _"As far as I know. Unless he's doing it from some other location, or has someone helping him."_

Kevin's eyes narrowed. _"Someone, like,...Jarvis maybe?"_

Clu shook his head. _"No, I'm telling you, Jarvis doesn't like Users. He wouldn't help Junior annoy us-...I mean, page us."_

Kevin nodded, but his eyes were insistent. _"What if he didn't have any choice?"_

Clu considered it. Then he sighed. _"Well, maybe. But, if he did then most likely it would come from the command center. He would send it from my old control panel."_

Kevin was silent for a long while, his brow furrowed. Then he spoke again. _"So. We know his location. This means going back to the Grid, and then I can-"_

Alan suddenly stood up, his face suddenly stern as he interrupted, surprising Kevin completely.

"_NO! No, Kevin Flynn, no! You are NOT going back there! I lost you...your son lost you...for twenty-one years! And we are NOT losing you again!"_

Kevin was taken aback.  
>Usually Alan didn't just go off like this.<br>He was moved at the caring in his friend's eyes, but also frustrated...of all four of them he knew was the only one who might be able to really reach Junior, because he would have Creator powers.

However, Alan wasn't done having his say.  
>He took a deep breath and spoke more calmly, but his jaw was still set and his eyes were still intense.<p>

"_Look,...Flynn,... nobody asked Junior to do what he did. You saw proof that he's gone to the Grid, and how often, so for him it's like, I don't know, an addiction or something...but it's not your responsibility to jump in and save him from it. And not at the risk of your own life. Especially not after what he tried to do to you! And with the MCP running the show?...No. You're NOT going to do this. Let his father help him. I don't know why he hasn't already. You are not going to do this."_

Kevin just looked at him, speechless. He could see how much this was upsetting Alan to think he would even consider it.  
>But then again, he also knew how much this was hurting Junior to stay stuck where he was, not to mention what had happened to the Grid, all the programs, and the threat to the real world too.<p>

Suddenly Clu's voice rang out. _"Then I'll do it." _

Standing up from his chair slowly, Clu continued, ignoring Kevin's wary frown. "_Kevin, I know exactly how to access the command center. I would have full admin powers. I can find him, and bring him back to the portal."_

But Kevin shook his head. He put his hands on his hips, and looked at Clu. Now he knew exactly how Alan was feeling.

"_Clu,...man, I get it,...I do. I know you want to help. But, you can't go alone. You knew how to access the command center last time, and the MCP had the guards nearly make mince-meat out of us. And let me tell you, buddy,...you may have admin powers, but you are no match for a User's powers. Especially a User who's scared, trapped, maybe unstable, freaking out...you-...you just can't risk it, man, not by yourself. You'll lose. Plus we haven't even considered that we don't know what's going on in the Grid right now. I'm not gonna' let you take that risk, buddy."_

Alan looked at Kevin incredulously. _"Hello?... Earth to Flynn?... Did I not just get through telling you this same thing?" _

Then he looked over at Clu. _"...and thank you, Clu,... for helping him to see how illogical the idea of any of us going in there is."_

Alan frowned at Kevin sternly. Clu frowned at Kevin too, plaintively.  
>Kevin looked back and forth between the two of them.<br>Then he threw up his hands in frustration, and there went the high-pitched voice again.

"_Okay!...well,...then... how the hell are we gonna' get him out of the Grid!...somebody wanna' tell me?...offer me some suggestions, man,...because I'm all ears!"_

Alan sighed. He'd only seen Kevin get this frustrated a few times, and always for some reason it made him have to suppress a laugh. Instead, he cleared his throat.

"_Alright. I have one suggestion. Let's have breakfast. We'll all sit around the table, and talk it over. We'll think of something."_

Kevin sighed, and nodded. Finally he spoke again. _"Good plan."  
><em>


	17. Chapter 17

Los Angeles  
>Alan Bradley's residence<p>

* * *

><p>Kevin had been sitting out on the patio by the spa for a good fifteen minutes, feet dangling into the water, trying to let his mind drift into meditation.<br>But for some reason, it just wasn't working well.  
>He was tense, and uneasy, couldn't keep his thoughts from running through all sorts of scenarios, questions, worries, memories from the Grid, things he thought he'd already made peace with and had put to rest, horrible visions, revisited...<p>

_...he was crawling, in utter shock and panic, desperately scraping his fingers across the simulated ground, trying to get away...someone he'd trusted the entire Grid to, not to mention his life while he was on the Grid, had turned on him and tried to destroy him...then the recall of the horrible anguish of knowing that Tron had stayed to fight Clu on his behalf, that Tron had taken a hit for him...and he'd also taken a hit himself in a different way, which started with the attack from Clu and then lasted throughout his imprisonment in the Outlands...while every program on the Grid was turned against him, thinking him a liar and a traitor, hating him, loathing him and all Users...and meanwhile Tron had spent all that time enslaved as Rinzler, tragically chained to darkness...they'd both taken the hit, and they'd both lost all those many cycles because of it...now they were all free of the Grid, but it seemed the Grid didn't want to let go of them...because of Dillinger...and now Abraxas...and of course, it was somehow all his own fault, or at least he felt like it was..._

He sighed, brushing all of the thoughts aside.  
>This meditation wasn't going like he'd hoped.<br>He'd already let go of the past, already made reparations, already forgiven, already moved forward.  
>So why did the past insist upon creeping back to torment him like this, when so much was already here to be dealt with in the present?<br>But more importantly, what was done was done, so why did he keep allowing the memories of the past to affect him, to tie him up in knots?  
>Hadn't he grown more than that, surely, in twenty-one godforsaken years?<p>

He sighed again.  
>Refocusing his thoughts, he tried once more to clear his mind.<br>But just then, he heard the sliding door open, and opened his eyes to see Alan walking towards him.

His friend sat down on the chaise lounge, and sighed. The four of them hadn't gathered for the round-table discussion yet, mainly because after breakfast Alan had gotten a call from one of the staff at Encom, so Kevin had come out here to meditate for a few moments. Now his old friend sat beside him, sensing his unrest and believing it to be about the issue with Junior, when really that was just the tip of the iceberg. After a few more moments, Alan spoke.

"_Have you stopped to consider this might be a trap?"_

Kevin sighed, nodding slowly. _"Well,...yeah. It sure might be. But if the kid's life is at stake, do I really have a choice?"_

Alan thought about it for a few seconds. In his opinion, what Flynn needed now, was the voice of reason.

"_You always have a choice. You can choose not to try to save people who don't want to be saved, or who might just get a sick thrill from watching you run in circles and throw your life away."_

Kevin was listening, but he'd actually given this much more thought than he'd let on. He sighed.

"_Alan,... I don't think that's the case with Junior. I think he's the one trapped, in some crap he didn't realize he was creating, scared, unstable, and now his dad's the almighty MCP. For Junior, I don't think it's really about me at all."_

Alan raised an eyebrow. His voice was firm, but gentle.

"_You don't think. But, do you know? Do you know for sure? And if not, is it worth the gamble? I mean, you have enough on your plate just putting your own life back together."_

Kevin only sighed. That was another topic altogether. That was the iceberg itself.  
>He felt uncharacteristically negative and apprehensive just thinking about it. His voice carried that feeling over, much more so than he'd intended.<p>

"_True. Putting my own life back together. Hah! Now that's gonna' be a tall order. Any idea what that's gonna mean, man? How astronomical that task is gonna be?"_

Alan seemed surprised, though not by his intensity - he'd seen that from him, many times.  
>What surprised him, was Kevin's apprehension, his clenched jaw, the desperate things unspoken behind his eyes and furrowed brow which suggested he felt powerless to do anything.<br>Alan wasn't used to seeing those things in his friend.  
>He could only sigh and give an answer which left it open for discussion.<p>

"_No,...I guess I don't. Define 'astronomical'."_

Kevin took the ball and ran with it, not even meaning to let all of his concerns and thoughts just spill forth, yet they did so, as Alan listened, somewhat more surprised than he'd been already. Kevin's voice started out rather calm, but the more he vented his frustrations, the more he stammered, his hooded gaze growing more intense.

"_Well,...okay,...Alan,...say, we get Junior outta the Grid,...okay? There's still the MCP. And I can promise you, he's not gonna go away. Even-...even if we were to find traces of his programming, delete files here and there, he'll have backups. He's had years to work on this. Years! And it could take us years to track him down, IF we even can! And... that's not even factoring Abraxas into the equation, damn it!"_

Kevin slammed his hand down on the concrete beside the spa, and swore under his breath.  
>Alan's brows raised. He'd seen his friend this addled only a few times, and he knew from experience that the best thing to do was just to listen non-reactively, to let Flynn wind himself up, and then wind himself right back down.<p>

Kevin took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, and continued, not seeming one bit calmer.

"_What I'm saying,...Alan,... is that,...even aside from the Grid,... this freaky stuff could become a life sentence, or maybe decades, the very least, years. All for a crime I didn't commit, that you guys didn't commit, that none of us committed! And Dillinger knows that! Man, he's who's getting the sick thrill, right there! Not his kid. I think rescuing Junior is the right thing to do, and,...a part of the solution,... but what happens after that? ...yeah, that's the real problem. The MCP. And I have no idea what the solution is." _

Alan sighed.

"_I think you're being a little overly-dramatic and pessimistic. And it's not like the whole system's out to get you personally, Flynn."_

Which was of course was the wrong thing to say.  
>Kevin's eyes widened, and he drew his feet out of the water, then stood up, beginning to pace.<br>Next came the high-range of his voice again. Along with the talking-with-the-hands thing.

"_Yeah, it is, Alan!...and,... 'pessimistic'? Look, ...don't-...don't you get it? Dillinger Senior **IS** the system now!...He's probably uploaded himself into every major mainframe in the world! And he's not gonna let go of his grudge...he's just now startin' to really have fun with it! Okay?...I mean,...pardon me for seeming like this is 'all about me', ...but, it kinda IS, man! I may have brought all this onto all of us! Because-...because, aside from his plans to apparently rule the world, Dillinger's Grid-vendetta is with me, personally, and you know it. Always has been, since I blew the whistle on him at Encom all those years ago. I just didn't see it back then. I'm sure seeing it now."_

Kevin shook his head, exhaling gruffly, and running his hands through his hair, trying to calm himself.  
>It sounded self-centered, he knew, but then again given the situation, he was kind of at the center of the cross-hairs. Or at least it seemed so.<br>He leaned his arms against the back of the empty chaise lounge across from Alan, and just stood there a few seconds.

"_It doesn't matter that he's in the wrong, off his rocker,... insane. See? That doesn't matter. And it doesn't matter where I go,... what I do. I know the only way to win is not to play, but... this isn't the Grid, man, and it isn't a game - it's my life! It's all our lives! And yet I wonder if the only way that I'm gonna have a chance at a life, and that we're all gonna have any peace at all, is if he doesn't know where I am." _

Alan just looked at him through narrowed, speculative eyes, and then shook his head.

"_I still think you're over-reacting. And you're being far too harsh on yourself. You didn't make the guy into a maniacal tyrant. You didn't make him upload himself onto the Grid. So, what - you're going into hiding now? For the rest of your life? Give up everything? Haven't you done enough of that because of the Grid? You're not going anywhere, Flynn."_

Kevin sighed, finally winding down now, but, now more frustrated in a way, because he'd mis-stated his angst, and he was just altogether frustrated with himself for even having stated any of his angst to begin with. Besides, it all sounded so self-pitying and absurd when he heard himself say it.  
>He paused for several seconds. When he spoke again, his voice was calmer, with a gravity to it instead of angst.<p>

"_No, that's not what I meant, Alan. I know I can't go into hiding,...I wouldn't just disappear and leave everyone in my life. No. Done that, not doin' it again. No way. Sam needs me. Tron needs me, so does Clu, and, I wouldn't leave you, either. Couldn't stand to be without any of you. And I want to fix the problems that exist because of me to begin with...the Grid. But,...what I meant by hiding was,... finding a way to hide in plain sight, so I have half a chance **to** fix things. You see? But here, in the real world, it's not like the Grid. It's not as easy as just getting a new identity disk."_

He sighed. This did sound absurd. All of this sounded so absurd. Extreme. Far-fetched.  
>And as open-minded as he was, if this were something he was listening to Alan say, he'd have told him he was nuts.<br>But, Kevin knew it wasn't nuts. It was just, unfortunately, a reality most people don't have to face.  
>Yet hadn't his life always sort of been that way?<br>It seemed so. At least, it had since he'd discovered the Grid. And he'd done nothing but make a mess of things ever since, without even trying.  
>And there was the self-pity again.<br>Shaking his head, he sighed and continued, looking off across the back yard. Now he was finally a bit calmer, a bit more centered.

"_It's not just about getting my life back, Alan. That's not even really it. It's about not continuing to watch people suffer just because of me, the Grid, or because some crazy computer program wants to take over the planet. It's about making sure my son's okay, that you're okay, and Tron, and Clu, Quorra,...getting them a life, too. And yeah, it's about changing the world. I really meant it when I said I wanted to change the world...the right way this time, not by playing God. And the first step of that is getting the world outta' the grasp of the MCP. But where to start, from the here and now? No idea. It's all just,... surreal, man. Sur-freakin-real." _

Kevin exhaled a slow sigh, and looked down at the ground.  
>Alan stood up from the chair, walked over, and put his hand on his friend's shoulder. His voice was calm, and there was that same compassionate, intrepid attitude which had fostered Tron. It was just what Kevin needed at the moment.<p>

"_First things first, Flynn. Don't let it overwhelm you like this. You're stacking everything onto yourself at once and forgetting that you have friends. You're not fighting this alone anymore. We'll figure this out. You're not perfect and no one expects you to be. You've acknowledged your mistakes, now stop wallowing in them. You, me, Sam, Tron, Clu, Quorra...we're all going to be okay. We're all going to be just fine. One step at a time. We can make this work, Kevin. We can."_

After listening to Alan's words Kevin stood there for several moments, silent, feeling the tension and the weight of it all slowly starting to slip from his shoulders somewhat. It was a blessed feeling.  
>He felt a bit foolish for having ranted as he had, because that was something he just usually didn't do, but he also felt better for having done it, which was usually the way things went with rants.<br>Looking at Alan, the corners of his mouth quirked into a slight smile. In his eyes were all the things he couldn't quite put words to, things which never usually got said between them...it was just always understood. But now, after along sigh, he gave voice to them.

"_I know we can. And, I appreciate it, Alan. You'll never know how much I appreciate it. You've been through so much crap and drama because of me. You all have. I don't know how to thank you enough, for,...everything...everything you've done, all the years, and Sam, Encom. I'm so sorry for everything I put all of us through." _

He paused, shaking his head, finally able to muster a slight chuckle at the whole situation as he continued.

"_And...I'm sorry for being so...intense... about this. It's just,...well, man, an intense circumstance. Feels all kinds of heavy. It's like some movie. Only,... it's my actual life. Our lives."_

Alan gave a wry smile, eyes still compassionate. _"Well, I know, but,...this isn't your fault, Flynn. You can't take responsibility for someone else's insanity or tyranny. You can't. And it may take some doing, but we'll figure this out..." _He paused, and patted Kevin on the shoulder,_ "..come on, buddy. Let's go back inside, sit down with the others, solve some problems."_

Kevin nodded. The two of them walked back in through the sliding glass doors, and headed towards the kitchen.

: : :

Clu was still sitting at the kitchen table, busily typing away on the laptop. As Kevin and Alan walked back into the kitchen, he grinned proudly.

_"Kevin, it took me a while, but I've found a way to access the Encom intranet from here. A back door."_

Alan raised an eyebrow, _"Or,... you could just log into it from the start page."_

Clu looked at him, seeming somewhat disheartened as his shoulders fell. _"Oh." _

"_But,... that's good work, buddy."_ Kevin grinned, trying to be supportive, as he elbowed Alan gently in the ribs.

Alan smirked, rolling his eyes at Flynn and then pointing to the laptop screen as he looked back at Clu. _"Yes it is. But, if you want to do it the easy way, there's the link. The password is Jethro82."_

Clu nodded, still somewhat deflated and irked that his brilliant revelation was something they already knew.

Just then, Alan rounded the corner to the living room to see Tron standing at the fireplace mantel. He was staring at the framed photographs there, and when Alan approached he turned to look at him with haunted eyes.

"_This...User,..."_ Tron's brow furrowed in confusion, _"...she looks like..."_

Tron's voice trailed off. Alan tilted his head slightly and gave a slight smile. _"That's my wife. Lora."_

Tron just nodded, and stared at the photograph. After a moment he set the frame back into its place on the mantel, and his gaze traveled to the floor.

Kevin walked to stand in the doorway, watching. He wondered if Tron could even recall Yori. Because of the Rinzler programming, Tron hadn't seemed to recall much, and virtually had only fragments of jumbled memory from the old system, but if he didn't remember her, then in some ways Kevin guessed that was almost a blessing - it was still very painful and difficult for him to see Jordan's photograph, and it had been nearly thirty years now since she passed.  
>He walked closer to where Tron stood, and spoke in a gentle voice.<p>

"_She's the one who invented the digitizing laser, which is how I got to the Grid in the first place. Lora was-" _

"_Yori's User. She wrote Yori." _Tron interrupted him, with sad, distant eyes.

Kevin's own eyes softened, and he nodded.

"_Yori...was my friend."_ Tron looked back at the photograph, and then he turned away from the mantel.

After several long moments, he gave a thin, wry smile, exhaling a long sigh and walking slowly over towards where Kevin stood. There was the same brave, stoic acceptance...so very much like Alan's.

Kevin's eyes were compassionate as he looked at Tron. There wasn't much he could say to comfort the program, and he didn't get the sense that Tron wanted to discuss it. So he settled for just putting his arm around his shoulders, as the two of them quietly walked into the kitchen.

Just then the cell phone rang again, jangling the mood of the moment with a loud, repetitive ring. Alan walked over the pick up the phone from the counter. It was Sam Flynn. He answered casually, with a sigh. _"Hey, Sam. What's up?"_

Sam sounded stressed. _"What do you mean, 'what's up'?...you just called me three times in a row without leaving a single message. I was in a meeting. Couldn't exactly pick up the phone, you know? So, what's wrong?" _

Alan looked at Kevin, confused. But when Kevin shrugged and gave a curious look, Alan just waved his hand and continued speaking to Sam. _"There must be some mistake. I didn't call you, Sam."_

Sam gave a wry chuckle. _"Yeah! You did. Three times. Says so right here."_

Alan just shook his head, and then sighed.  
>Of course. The Grid had apparently gotten dial-happy again.<br>But he didn't want to go into it with Sam at the moment, not when he was there at work. _"Well, guess my phone's malfunctioning." _So he changed the subject. _ "So, you coming home for lunch, or what?"_

Sam replied through a faint wave of static._ "Thought about it. But may just grab something and eat at my desk."_

Alan chuckled._ "Workaholic."_

Sam didn't miss a beat. _"Slacker."_

The older man chuckled._ "You got that right. First day off I've had in ages. Feels pretty good."_

Sam laughed along with him._ "Go Alan. Hey, gotta get back to these reports. I'll see you guys this evening, alright?"_

"_Alright Sam. Have a good one."_

He disconnected the call, and sighed, fiddling with the phone. Kevin looked at him curiously with a raised eyebrow. "_Everything okay?"_

Alan nodded, though his face said otherwise. His voice was clipped. _"Yeah. Sure. I think my cell may be malfunctioning. Sam thinks I called him, three times. But I didn't."_

He sighed, laid the phone down on the counter, and sat down at the table. _"Well,...let's think of some solutions, shall we?"_

* * *

><p>Los Angeles<br>Encom Tower  
>: : : : : : : : : : :<p>

Sam sat at his desk, still looking at the screen of his cell phone.  
>The missed-calls menu clearly showed three calls from Alan's cell.<br>But Alan had said he didn't make the calls, and he knew Alan wouldn't lie to him, not even to keep him from worrying. In that regard, Alan was as straight-up honest as his dad was.  
>But this was definitely strange.<br>He couldn't escape the hunch this had something to do with the Grid, and he couldn't seem to get his mind back onto his work for thinking about it.

After a few seconds, he sat back in his chair, looking out the window and suddenly feeling a surge of anger, frustration. This had to have something to do with the Grid.  
>He knew it was pointless to entertain angry self-pity, but he sure wanted to.<br>Because, why? Why were they all having to go through this in the first place?  
>Hadn't they been through enough already? Hadn't he suffered enough? Hadn't Alan suffered enough?<br>And, surely to God, hadn't his dad suffered enough?

He thought of his father, and his fingers absently toyed with the data chip which he still wore around his neck.  
>Then it suddenly hit him. He really didn't know why he hadn't thought of it before now.<br>The data chip. His father's disk. The Grid. It was all right there, on the chip which he held between his fingers.  
>That might be the solution, right there. Or at least, part of it.<p>

He quickly sat forward in his chair, pressing the button on the phone and grabbing the receiver. After a few seconds, he left a voice-mail message for the floor receptionist.

_"Connie?...Sam Flynn. Something came up, and I gotta' run home for a bit. I'll be back after lunch."_

And with that, he grabbed his jacket and helmet, and was out the door.


	18. Chapter 18

Los Angeles  
>Alan Bradley's residence<p>

* * *

><p>For about an hour, the kitchen table had been the site of a brainstorming session between Kevin, Alan, Clu and Tron.<br>Not much had been accomplished.  
>Clu stared at the laptop's screen, clicking through links on the Encom main page. Alan just stared at the tabletop, thinking. Kevin sat with a notepad in his lap, sketching something while Tron looked over his shoulder.<p>

"_What are the squares for?"_ Tron asked, tilting his head curiously.

"_Started as me just drawing shapes while I was problem solving..." _Kevin sighed, musing with a wry grimace at his own scribblings, _"...but kinda' looks like now it's a chessboard, I guess."_

Tron looked at him, nodding. _"Where are the chess pieces?"_

Kevin sighed again, tossing the note pad onto the table with a frown and rubbing his eyes. _"I'm trying to believe they're not us."_

Tron tilted his head again. He didn't quite get what Kevin was saying.  
>But Alan did. He raised an eyebrow at his friend and gave a smirk. <em>"Thank you for that cheery thought, Flynn."<em>

"_Hey, I just call it as I see it. Doesn't exactly thrill me either."_ Kevin picked up the pencil again, idly sketching along the edge of one of the squares he'd drawn. After a moment he spoke again.

_"I'm just trying to think this through, Alan. That's all. I'm giving consideration to what you said. The trap thing. Much as I wanna' help Junior, you may have been right about why we shouldn't try to."_

Alan raised both eyebrows, a bit surprised. _"Okay. So why the change of heart?"_

With another sigh, Kevin pointed to one of the squares. _"MCP. Chess program. Thinks about ten moves ahead, at least,...right? And every good chess player saves the strongest moves for if he gets in a tight, right? So,... more and more I've been wondering- " _

He paused and sat back in his chair, tapping the pencil idly against the paper as he continued.

_"...okay,...Junior knows we know about his game, the Grid, right? So we go in there trying to play the hero, he flips out, gets scared, turns on us and traps us before we can trap him. Takes him off the hot seat, and puts us on it instead."_

Alan nodded. _"Yep. I was trying to tell you that."_

Kevin sighed. _"Yeah, well,...man, I was just trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, trust him a little."_

Alan's brow arched again. _"How'd it work for you last time you did that, Flynn?"_

Kevin sighed, frowning. _"Not so well."_

Then he sat there thinking, still tapping the pencil on the notepad. A second later, the sound of the Ducati's engine caught his attention, as Sam pulled up out front and parked the bike.  
>Kevin and Alan looked at each other. Alan stood up, walking towards the door, but he'd hardly gotten a few steps across the kitchen when the door opened and Sam came rushing in.<br>Alan stopped and looked at him with a curious expression.

"_Well hello. Thought you weren't coming home for lunch?"_

Sam shrugged. _"I wasn't. Then something came up. Couple of things, actually..."_

Pausing, he set his helmet down on the counter, and then got right to the point, reaching for his necklace and pulling the data chip from beneath his shirt collar.

"_...first, I suddenly got the idea we could try reloading the Grid overlay from dad's disk, like maybe that would stabilize the Grid, reset the portal so Junior could get back...but..."_

Sam paused, rolling his eyes and giving a frustrated sigh.

Kevin raised an eyebrow. _"But what, kiddo? Because that's an excellent idea."_

Sam gave a cynical shrug as he walked to the fridge. _"Yeah. Kinda moot now, though. 'Cause here's the second thing...just as I get on the elevator, guess who comes casually walking out of his office like everything's ducky?"_

Kevin exhaled a frustrated huff, throwing up his hands and letting go of the pencil, which flipped itself through the air and bounced against the tile floor with a hollow wooden clanking sound.  
>He just looked at Alan and shook his head incredulously.<p>

Alan sighed. He looked at Sam. _"Did you say anything to him?"_

Sam shook his head. _"Nope. No need. Didn't see me. He just walked on down the hall."_ Sam opened a bottle of water, taking a sip, his expression darkening. _"So. Can we stop trying to save the sharks now? Think they can swim just fine."_

Kevin sighed. He understood the resentment and frustration he saw there in Sam's expression. But as exasperated as he was with whatever game Junior was playing, he still had the hunch the boy was in way over his head. He also knew Alan probably didn't agree, and it was clear that Sam didn't. And since he probably wasn't going to be able to change either of their mindsets about the matter any time soon, it was best to just stop trying to, for now at least. Besides, Junior's hi-jinks notwithstanding, they all still had a much bigger problem to solve...the Grid itself.  
>But in light of this latest jerk-around of events, the more he stood there and thought about it, he really was just very weary of trying to figure out the whole thing.<br>He needed a break from the stress of it, and some peace of mind, neither of which the process of brainstorming had afforded them thus far.

"_Man,... I'd sure like to get away from here and get some fresh air,... get our minds off of it for a little while."_

After a few seconds of silence, Alan said a very unexpected thing, the beginnings of a smirky grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. _"Flynn,... how long has it been since you've been to the beach?"_

Kevin just looked at him, surprised.  
>He wasn't sure if he was more surprised by the suggestion's having come from Alan, which was somewhat uncharacteristic, or, by the realization that he himself hadn't once thought of the beach since returning from the Grid, which was definitely uncharacteristic. That showed him just how very stressed out he'd been, because prior to getting trapped on the Grid he'd always adored the ocean and couldn't stay away from it for long.<p>

He slowly grinned. _"Man, ...got me from straight outta' left field with that one. Good call."_

Tron's brow quirked and he looked at Alan. _"Beach?"_

At the same time, Clu looked at Alan, then at Kevin. _"You once told me of that place. It's like the Sea of Simulation, isn't it?"_

Kevin nodded. _"Yeah, kinda. Only a thousand times better."  
><em>

* * *

><p>Los Angeles<br>Will Rogers Beach, Pacific Palisades  
>: : : : : : : : : : : : : : :<p>

The beach was deserted except for the four of them, which wasn't all that unusual for a weekday in December.  
>It was a balmy eighty-two degrees, and the skies were a gorgeous blue. All the lifeguard stands were closed and locked, and not a soul was around walking the sands but them. This was ideal, given the circumstances.<p>

Kevin stood barefooted and smiling in the afternoon sun, eyes closed, hands in his pockets, the slight breeze ruffling the sleeves of his t-shirt as he breathed in the balmy salt air.  
>On the drive there, his mind had been laden with so many concerns, not the least of which being how to restore the Grid and save all the programs who were no doubt being tortured or jeopardized by whatever Junior and the MCP had set into motion. He knew he had to do something, he just didn't know what. But the future of the digital frontier rested in his hands, and it seemed indeed a heavy burden. However, just now, even if brief, he had a few moments in which to relax, to recharge, to think, to do without doing, as he stood at the precipice of a true miracle, the ocean, something which was God's frontier, not his.<p>

A few feet away, Alan unfolded the blanket they'd brought, spreading it out onto the sand and sitting down. Painstakingly he dusted his sandy shoes off, very carefully placing them onto the blanket. Shuffling haphazardly with bare feet through the sand, Kevin walked over to the blanket, plopped down, and grabbed one of the rolled-up towels. He stretched out and laid back in the sun, using the towel as a pillow.

"_Man, I missed this."_

Alan just gave him a slight smile. _"Yeah, thought you might've. It's been a pretty long while since I've done this. Years probably. Weather's great for it today."_

The two of them glanced over to where Clu and Tron stood at the water's edge, absolutely mesmerized by the waves. Clu turned back to look at Alan, a huge grin on his face.

"_Are you sure we can't go swimming?"_

Alan gave a sigh and chuckled. _"Only if you want to turn into a popsicle. It's December. I told you before we left, the water's going to be very cold this time of year."_

Kevin raised up his head, and laughed at Clu's expression. He could tell the former program had no idea what a popsicle was. But what amused him more than that, was the fact that Clu was stubbornly determined to test what Alan had said, in order to find out for himself. He watched as Clu kicked off his flip-flops, and then stepped forward slowly until the waves rolled in and lapped at his feet.

"_It's not that cold." _The former system admin looked back at Kevin and shrugged.

Clu craned his neck, looking all around at the deserted beach, then took off the baseball cap and sunglasses, and set them down in the dry sand. The next thing to go was the t-shirt, leaving only the swim trunks he'd insisted on wearing. Wordlessly, Tron looked at him, crossing his arms.  
>Kevin's eyebrows raised, and he looked over at Alan. Alan smirked back at him, shaking his head.<br>It was very apparent what Clu was about to do.  
>And sure enough, he did. He took a running start, dashed right out into the waves, and jumped headlong into the tide as though it were a lightcycle.<p>

Alan stifled a laugh, and looked at Kevin, mouthing a countdown, _"Three...two...one..."_

"_WHAAAUGH!"_ When he finally managed to stand amidst the waves which buffeted against his legs, the look on Clu's face was somewhere between utter shock and exhilaration. He shook his head vigorously, blinking the sting of saltwater from his eyes.

Kevin just grinned, muttering. _"Knew he was gonna' do that ... 's why I told him to leave the wig in the car and just wear the hat. He's too much like me."_

Alan gave a smirk. _"Hm. Well, I notice you're not out there frolicking in the waves."_

Kevin chuckled. _"Got that right. I'm fine with livin' vicariously. Not into the swimming thing."_

Alan gave him a quirky look. _"What? You used to swim all the time, surfer boy."_

Kevin sent the quirky look right back. _"Well yeah, Alan,...thirty years ago." _

Just then, Tron came shuffling over and sat down on the blanket. He carefully took off his shoes, brushing the salty grains away from the blanket just as Alan had done, and placing the shoes beside him. Then he just looked out at the ocean, wordlessly.

Kevin could tell from Tron's quiet, thoughtful demeanor that something was weighing on him, and he was pretty sure he knew what it was. _The Sea of Simulation._  
>As Rinzler, Tron had plummeted into those uncertain depths, and who knows how he'd found himself to the shore. But by the time Kevin had found him, it was apparent that the fall had been equally as damaging to Tron as whatever repurposing Clu had done to him. Tron was changed by it, irrevocably so. Not surprising then, that Tron didn't want much to do with the sea in this world, having been so scarred by that in his own.<br>And Kevin knew that, which is why he didn't urge the program to go near the ocean, or even to speak. Instead he just looked out at the ocean too, watching for a few moments as Clu splashed around enjoying the waves, and he smiled. He was somewhat surprised that his former codified likeness knew how to swim, but not that surprised, considering he'd been a swimmer himself for so much of his life. Finally he leaned back again on the blanket, squinting up at the two seagulls which soared across them overhead, and then closing his eyes.

Several moments went by, and with just the sound of the waves and the occasional distant cry of a gull, Kevin was almost lulled into a nap.  
>Until the sound of Alan's low but urgent voice startled him. The edge to it meant something was wrong.<p>

"_Kevin,..."_

Opening his eyes, Kevin sat up on his elbows to see that Alan was pointing out to the waves. He looked over, squinting in the sun, and at first he didn't see cause for alarm until he realized Clu's head was bobbing under the surface in a way that suggested he was in over his head and that he wasn't simply playing in the waves anymore.

Kevin was on his feet in an instant, walking a few steps closer to the shore.  
>Alan and Tron stood up as well, watching as Kevin picked up the pace, loping quickly over to the tide-dampened sands.<p>

"_Clu?"_ Kevin's voice called. But Clu didn't answer, and instead kept surfacing and then submerging.  
>He wasn't that far out in the waves, so it didn't seem feasible that he'd be in dangerous depths.<br>_...maybe a sandbar drop-off?...  
>...undertow?...<em>

Kevin called again, this time his voice bellowed over the crash of waves. _"Clu!"_

Still no reply.

"_Man, no,..."_ He watched with a sickening dread as Clu's head didn't pop up from the water right away. Then when it did, he reached with thrashing arms only to submerge again.

Kevin didn't even think twice about it. He took a deep breath, and lurched forward, stomping through the tide and then plummeting himself into the chilling waters with a long, shallow dive.  
><em>...oh God-have-mercy this water is freaking ice cold...<br>...it's either gonna kill me or not, but I don't have a choice..._

He had almost swum out to where Clu was, and when he tried to touch bottom, sure enough, there was a drop-off. Treading water, he inched closer to Clu, calling out to him just as Clu's head bobbed up past the surface again.

_"Clu! ...Lean your head back! ...Lean your head back!"_

But Clu didn't hear him. Or if he did, he was too panicked to process the command. _"Kev-"_ was all he managed to garble out before a small wave hit him in the face. He coughed and sputtered and went under again.

Kevin swam towards Clu, knowing full well he'd reach a wildly-panicked man when he got to him. Treading water again, he removed his soaking wet shirt, grasping the sleeve of it and tossing it across the surface so that the other sleeve floated within Clu's reach. As soon as Clu's head surfaced, he yelled, _"Grab the shirt! Clu, grab the shirt! I'll pull you in!"_

But Clu didn't reach for it. Instead he just sank and fought and sank again.

This was horrifyingly surreal.  
>It had been over thirty years since he'd had to do what he was about to do, and he'd never done it in the ocean. It was tough enough to do in a pool.<br>But it's amazing what you can do when a life is at stake.

Fueled by sheer adrenalin and forcing down his fear, he let go of the shirt, lurched back, and dove down beneath the surface, swimming forward and reaching his arms straight out in front of him.  
>He found Clu's legs in a half-second, and a half-second later he'd wrapped his arms around them, forcefully flipping Clu around and literally climbing up behind his body in the water.<br>One more second and he had Clus' chin angled back with his hand, then his arm found it's way tightly around Clu's rib-cage. As he centered his hip beneath the former program's back, he lifted Clu to buoyancy in the water and carried him, legs kicking beneath them, his other arm sculling through the water and reaching towards the shore repeatedly with all his might.

This was unbelievably nightmarish. The physical struggle of trying a scissors-kick in the ocean at his age notwithstanding, doing a full carry-tow in a pool was nothing compared to the strain of fighting the waves with a real, live, panicking, drowning person under your arm.  
>Not unexpectedly, Clu did what nearly every panicked, drowning person does...he rolled Kevin in the water, trying to fight to the surface for air. But Kevin held on loosely and just let him roll, twice, three times, and then finally redoubled his grip, regaining control and forcing Clu's body up to the surface again with his hip while dodging the thrash of arms.<p>

As soon as Clu stopped gasping for air and was simply coughing, Kevin managed to call between his own breaths, leaning his head back as he pulled them forward through the choppy waves.

"_CLU! RELAX! ...I got you! Stop fightin' me buddy! Stop fightin' me!"_

And it took a moment, but Clu relaxed somewhat. As soon as he did, the process was much easier, even considering the waves.  
>When Kevin's knee brushed against the sandy ocean bottom, he touched feet down, pulled Clu across him, then threw his arm over his shoulders. Panting, he stood up and helped Clu to stand as they staggered and waded through the calf-deep waves, exhausted.<p>

Clu was shaking head to toe, coughing, and retching. Kevin braced himself, knowing quite well what a belly-full of swallowed seawater plus an adrenaline-soaked system often led to, but thankfully Clu only coughed and cleared his throat. Then with eyes wide and watering, he looked at his Creator and literally fell to his knees in the sand, after which he flopped to a seated position, chest heaving with breaths.  
>Next to Clu, Kevin leaned forward still panting, hands resting on his knees as he fought to catch his breath, and it was then that he saw two pairs of bare feet in front of them.<br>He looked up to see Alan and Tron standing there, both of them gaping in amazement.

Finally Alan spoke. _"Are...you...alright?"_

Clu just nodded, still coughing and seeming somewhat embarrassed.  
>Panting, Kevin coughed and rasped the words out raggedly between breaths. "<em>Yeah...I'm...good...just-"<em> he caught his breath and slowly stood, offering his hand to Clu, _"just...you know...a...relaxing...day... at the... beach."_

He pulled Clu to a standing position, and wrapped his arm around him. Very slowly they made their way up the sand to the blanket, with Alan and Tron following a few steps behind.  
>Tron stopped to collect Clu's hat, shirt, shoes and sunglasses from where he'd left them on the sand.<p>

Kevin stopped beside the blanket and stood, drenched with seawater, still winded, looking over at Alan. "_Say what you want to... 'bout parachute pants...but...they weigh nothing in the water."_

Alan gave a smirky grin, and pointed out to sea. _"Your shirt?..." _

Kevin waved. _"Ah,...whatever, man. It's gone."_

He slowly reached over to grab the rolled-up towel, and was about to drape it around his shoulders when he looked over at Clu who sat on the blanket, catching his breath and shivering.

"_Here buddy,...'think you need this more than me."_

He tossed Clu the towel, and then reached in the bag for the other towel, draping it across his shoulders. Oddly, he wasn't really too chilled, though he was sure it would hit him once the adrenaline subsided. For now he was just glad he hadn't keeled over.

Tron sat down beside Clu, handing him the t-shirt, which Clu proceeded to wrestle with until he got it pulled onto his head and then he wrangled his water-dappled arms through the arm holes.  
>Then he nestled under the towel again, and looked sheepishly up at his Creator, who was just easing himself to sit down on the blanket. Kevin shook his head as he looked out at the ocean.<p>

"_Man. Didn't think the old man had it in him."_

Alan's brows raised, and he nodded with a wry expression. _"Sure impressed me."_

Kevin exhaled a sigh, shaking his head as the realization fully hit him._ "Yeah,... me too, I guess."_

Then Clu's voice spoke, sounding more than a bit humbled. Alan smiled, listening to the two of them.

"_Kevin?..."_

"_Yeah buddy?" _

"_Thank you."_

"_No sweat, buddy. You okay?" _

Clu nodded. Kevin looked over at him, then reached and patted his shoulder. _"I shouldn't have let you be out there by yourself. Next time we're gettin' you some floaties kiddo." _

Clu just quirked his head, smiling somewhat shyly but proudly, because Kevin had called him the same thing he called his son. And because he was certain that 'getting floaties' was a good thing, though he had no idea what they were. He was about to ask, when Kevin leaned back on the blanket, and heaved an exhausted sigh.

"_So. What say we rest here another coupla' minutes and then split? Getting' a bit breezy. Must be about four o'clock, huh?" _

Alan looked at his watch. _"Close. Three-thirty. If we go now, we'll miss some of the nonsense on the PCH."_

Kevin nodded. Down at the shore, an elderly woman was just beginning to stroll past, slowly walking her small dog on a leash. It was the first beach-goer they'd seen yet. Clu sank down under the brim of his cap, but the woman didn't even look up in their direction. Instead she kept walking her dog and looking out at the ocean.  
>After a few more moments, Kevin slowly stood, as did Clu, Tron and Alan. Shaking the sand off the blanket, Alan draped it over his shoulder, and Tron grabbed the beach bag. The four of them slowly made their way up the sand to the boardwalk.<p>

None of them looked back to notice as the elderly woman down at the shoreline retrieved a small camera from the pocket of her sweater, snapped their photograph, and kept right on walking up the beach.


	19. Chapter 19

Los Angeles  
>Encom Tower<p>

* * *

><p>Lithe fingers clicked impossibly fast on the keyboard. A few typos, and he swore under his breath, backspacing and making the corrections.<br>How different it was, almost arcane actually, to be typing on a keyboard once more instead of a touch-screen.  
>The email completed, he hit 'send' and sat back in the chair.<p>

Looking around his office, Ed Dillinger Junior sighed, contented though slightly fatigued from the day's cyber-travel.  
>Aside from the small desk lamp and the soft bluish light from his monitor, the room was darkened, comforting, almost womb-like.<br>Outside the expansive picture window, the L.A. cityscape sprawled like a panoramic mural, as if it were an artifice made to mirror the night sky...street lights, tail-lights, and windows of office lights, all winking against the ebony backdrop like stars, for as far as the eye could see.  
>It was the closest thing to the majestic skyline of Tron City which he could find in this sadly-lacking world.<p>

A soft chime captured his attention just then, followed by the message onscreen..._You Have New Mail._  
>Sitting up, he clicked on the email notification hoping to find promising intel.<br>Though the email was unsigned he knew who it was from.  
>And he knew what it was regarding.<p>

_"Mister Flynn. And entourage, I presume." _He muttered, chuckling and grinning with dark anticipation as he clicked on the attachment.

And then he sighed with disappointment.  
>It was simply a photo of a sunny afternoon at the beach, as four unrecognizable figures in the distance were sauntering up the sands towards the boardwalk.<p>

Closing the email, he exited the browser with another sigh.  
>Damn, this was frustrating.<p>

Tailing Kevin Flynn and his Grid expatriates was proving to be as tedious and unproductive as could possibly be, and he was tired of getting nowhere.  
>If the unwitting Flynn didn't stumble into his trap and offer up some sort of usable dirt soon, he had half a mind to create some and offer it up for him, but, of course he knew he wouldn't try that again, because it had failed so miserably the first time. And as it was, he knew he had to keep things on the down-low, because if Flynn were to find out he was being tailed he'd likely either toy with him or rebel with righteous indignation, maybe even blow the lid off the Grid altogether in some outrageous way. Flynn was, after all, the man who'd had the kahunas to topple the MCP before. He'd been bold as brass, sober as a judge, fearless and frighteningly intelligent, and after a twenty-one year involuntary stint on the Grid he certainly hadn't become any less of those things. If anything, he'd grown far more wise, and what the years had taken away in terms of youth and agility, they'd given him tenfold in the form of uncannily calm reserve, which was by far more dangerous than boldness any day.<br>To make matters worse, now Sam Flynn was following in his father's footsteps, so the two of them combined presented a rather formidable obstacle, not to mention the fact that Alan Bradley was on their side.

And so, much as he hated to admit it, Ed Jr. knew his dad had been right – the Flynns were not to be underestimated.  
>He had no choice but to just be patient and look for some weakness, something to exploit, which thus far he had not found. At this point, he was starting to doubt whether he ever would.<p>

He sighed again, standing up from his chair and putting the computer into hibernation mode with the click of a mouse.  
>No matter, he reasoned. Tomorrow's another day. It was time for him to go get some much-needed rest anyway.<br>Tomorrow he'd have to start figuring out solutions to whatever had befallen the Grid, so that they could correct it.  
>And now that he'd gotten himself on good terms with his dad again, he reckoned that should be fairly easy to do, between the two of them. But first he would rest.<p>

He switched off the light, and quietly closed his office door.  
>A few seconds later, the monitor screen sprang to bright life again, as the system emerged from hibernation.<br>Streams of code passed across the screen, and then the connection initiated.  
>The screen flashed and flickered momentarily, and then the message appeared.<p>

ILC transmission – 18:29:14  
>MCTRL_751 : Are you still there?<p>

The cursor blinked, awaiting a reply.  
>Thirty seconds went by, then another thirty.<br>And then the screen went blank, as the computer powered itself down and turned itself off.

* * *

><p>Los Angeles<br>Alan Bradley's residence  
>: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :<p>

After the beach excursion, the traffic had added a two-hour, two-freeway endeavor just to get back to Alan's home. By the time they did, they were all exhausted.  
>Alan was fighting to stay awake while perusing the newspaper from the comfort of his recliner.<br>Kevin was leaning back on the couch with his feet on the ottoman, watching Tron tirelessly flip through the channels on the television.  
>Clu came walking slowly into the living room, looking the most exhausted of them all. He moved to sit down next to Kevin on the couch, then winced and reached for the side of his rib-cage.<p>

Kevin looked over at him, concerned. "_You okay buddy?"_

Clu nodded, still rubbing his side gingerly. _"Yes. Just a little sore."_

"_I'm sorry, Clu. That's probably from where I had hold of you in the water..." _Kevin gave him a sympathetic look, and continued. _"...it's pretty common, unfortunately. Bet you'd feel better if you soaked in the spa for a little while, though. Right Alan?"_

No answer. Kevin looked over at Alan, who had the newspaper in front of him. _"Alan?"_

"_Hm- what!"_ Suddenly Alan flinched, dropped the newspaper, and sat up, adjusting his glasses. Clearly he'd dozed off still holding the paper.

Kevin chuckled, finding this funny. _"Wakey, wakey."_

Alan however did not find this funny. Scowling, he reached into the half-eaten bowl of popcorn on the table beside him, and unabashedly tossed a handful of it at Kevin, who ducked and laughed. Then he crossed his arms, closed his eyes, and proceeded to return to his nap.

Clu looked at the popcorn scattered on the floor, then looked back and forth between the two of them with an odd expression.

_"Oh,...we do this. It's been years, but, we do this."_ Kevin explained, still chuckling.

From the chair came Alan's quiet voice, and he didn't even open his eyes. _"That one was long overdue, Flynn."_

Kevin chuckled again, reaching to pick up the popcorn from around his feet, but then wincing in pain as he bent forward. He looked back at Clu.

"_Yow. Right there with ya, buddy,...times ten. 'Probably won't even be able to move tomorrow."_

He sighed, stretching tired arms and rubbing his sore back. _"Yeah, 'think the spa's a happenin' idea. Welcome to join me if you want. This old man's going to soak."_

Slowly he got up off of the couch with a grimace and a groan, then stretched his back again and walked towards the hallway.  
>Clu shrugged, deciding the spa was a good idea. With a barely audible, <em>"Ow"<em> he slowly stood up and then followed Kevin.

Tron remained where he sat on his favorite spot on the floor, still flipping quickly through the various channels on the television with the remote control.  
>A few moments went by.<br>Alan opened his eyes and sighed, irritated.

"_Tron. Pick a channel."_

Startled, Tron looked back at his User, then gave a slightly-apologetic shrug.

"_I'm sorry. It's just,...there's nothing on TV to watch."_

Alan frowned. _"Not possible. There are 500 channels."_

Then he sighed and smirked. How very surreal, and ironic. If Lora had been here she would have never let him hear the end of it...he of all people was busting his young lookalike for channel surfing.

Tron got up, and sighed, handing the remote control to Alan, then sadly plopping down on the couch where Kevin had sat. _"I think I just don't...relate... to any of it."_

Alan put the channel on the news, muted the volume, then looked over at Tron. _"It's all so very new and different to you, this world,...isn't it?"_

Tron nodded, yawning. _"Yes it is. And so much of it doesn't make sense."_

Alan chuckled, suppressing a yawn himself._ "Well, as a longtime resident of it, I concur."_

Tron tilted his head again, his face more serious, almost sad. _"I'm glad Clu isn't fixated on perfection anymore. Because I don't think this world can really be perfected. "_

Alan was a bit taken aback by Tron's uncharacteristically pessimistic tone. He shrugged. _"I don't know about that,...but, at least, it can't be by Clu's, uh,...former methods...that's half of what's gotten this world into the mess we're in."_

Musing at his own statement, Alan nestled back against the chair's headrest again. After a long pause, Tron spoke again, eyes distant and voice somewhat forlorn as he leaned back on the couch.

"_I don't believe I belong here, Alan. My place is on the Grid. My purpose, the purpose you gave me, was to fight for the Users. But here Users have to fight against Users to survive. It's just very, very confusing, this world."_

It was quite a heavy statement coming from the former program, and Alan just looked at him. Then Tron spoke again, clarifying his feelings.

"_...and it's disheartening. Deeply imperfect. Even I can see that and I just arrived here. In my world, Kevin Flynn was...ridiculed, scorned, vilified, exiled from the Grid,...forced into hiding just to avoid deresolution. Now he faces the same thing here, as do we all, and yet... this...is his own world. So why would I want to stay in it? Why would any of us want to?"_

Alan could only sigh, eyes softening with compassion. Tron certainly did have a point. This world didn't at all make sense, at least not their corner of it - they'd all been running around like refugees and living in bunker conditions. It not only didn't make sense, it was unacceptable. But, he also had the feeling that Tron's fatigue was slightly getting the better of him, and was making everything seem less hopeful than it really was. Because these weren't unchangeable conditions, they were simply not going to be easy to change.

After a minute or so, Alan spoke again, his voice somewhat softer.

"_Tron...I'm not discounting what you're saying. I agree with you, for the most part. But, I think we all have a tendency to see things as being worse than they are when we're very tired, you know?"_

But Tron didn't answer. And when Alan looked over, the former program had his eyes closed. It appeared he was drifting off to sleep.  
>Alan smiled to himself.<br>_...well, that certainly makes my point..._

He sat back in his chair again, finally closing his eyes. Within a few moments, he'd drifted back to sleep too.

* * *

><p>The Grid<br>: : : : : : : :

The entirety of Tron City was in a state of complete turmoil. The streets were teeming with groups of basics all attacking each other, attacking anything which drew near them, some gathering together in bands to attack more powerfully. On the flight from the arena, Jarvis had seen six more Recognizers crash, which was certainly unprecedented and definitely horrifying to watch. He'd flown past sectors where masses of basics were attacking members of the Black Guard, and he hadn't dared try to land and intervene. There was no use. Judging from what he saw taking place, he'd have been derezzed instantly.  
>Instead he had continued to the edge of the Outlands, landing the light-jet and then climbing up the first shallow ridge on foot. He'd scrambled up the second ridge by using his disk to cut out foot-holds, and mercifully he'd finally gotten to the top of it, a spot where he could at least rest, a spot which also afforded him a view of a portion of the chaos taking place.<p>

He sat there for many microcycles amidst a growing dread and a gathering fatigue.  
>His energy was already dreadfully low, and he knew that if he proceeded any farther into the Outlands, there was the good chance that he wouldn't be able to draw power and his energy stores would quickly deplete to the point that he would derezz.<br>Yet from what he saw happening in the streets, it was equally fatal there...random deresolution without rhyme or reason, with basics taking pleasure in ripping others to pixels, which was especially the case for any program who stood out in any way, and with his elite markings he definitely did that.  
>And so there he was, near exhaustion and nestled in the crannies of the mountainous ridges which bordered the vast Outlands, with no guarantee of safe passage either way.<br>He mused sadly, recalling a User expression he'd once heard Clu use...'stuck between a rock and a hard place'. This definitely qualified.

From the safety of his hideout, he watched the streets below for a long while, so very tired, and considering powering himself into sleep mode for a brief rest, until something odd happened which returned his circuits to a hyper-attentive state. There was a sudden clearing in the crowds, with programs running every which way, as if they were all frantically trying to get away from something. At first he couldn't see what it was they were running from. But then he noticed the ground itself...simulated streets and walkways all cracking with glowing fissures of pale, incendiary yellow, jagged ruptures which spread rapidly along in all directions like crazed tendrils. He couldn't discern the source, though it appeared to be spreading from a single tower, but every program who stepped on one of the glowing fissures fell instantly and began to slowly derezz, writhing and screaming and fighting the process of obliteration until nothing remained.

Jarvis shuddered. This had to be the result of the Abraxas source code.

And then a nanosecond after he'd reached that dreadful conclusion, something far more ominous came into view, emerging from the darkened recesses and looming over what remained of the derezzing programs, before walking past them with deadly steps which spread even more tendrils of doom from its feet.  
>Hooded, cloaked, thin and monstrous, with irregular circuits which mirrored the fissures on the ground, it was the source of that sickly yellow light.<br>_Abraxas himself._

Jarvis stared, incredulous.  
>This could not be.<br>Abraxas had derezzed, many cycles ago aboard the Regulator. This simply could not be him.  
>Yet, it certainly looked like him, and from the mass destruction Jarvis was seeing, it was as though the source code had simply paved the way for the deadly one's reappearance.<br>Now his circuits crawled with unrest, and he was wishing dreadfully with every pixel of his being that he hadn't enacted that source code.

The former elite nestled further into the sheltering crevice of simulated rocks. There was no way he could possibly relax his worried thoughts enough to enter sleep mode, at least not any time soon. He had to calculate some way of survival. For the very first time he could ever recall, he found himself wishing that somehow a portal would appear. Because if it did, he would most certainly traverse it and escape. The User world could not possibly be worse than this.


	20. Chapter 20

Los Angeles  
>Encom Tower<br>Twenty four hours later

* * *

><p>Kevin pulled off the helmet, ruffling a hand through his matted-down hair and smiling with exhilaration when he saw his son standing a few feet away at the doorway to the parking garage.<p>

_"Man it's good to be on the bike again! And it runs like a dream, kiddo!" _

Sam gave a smirky grin. _"So you approve then?"_

"_Approve?..."_ Kevin's eyebrows hitched and he grinned ear to ear. _"You kiddin' me?...man, you got the job as my new mechanic. This baby's purrin' like new! Shocks are amazing...seat's actually comfortable now,...love the new grips, too!"_

The younger Flynn was trying to be coy, but his father's praise brought forth a full smile. He just shrugged, and nodded. Just then the door to the elevator hallway opened, and Sam turned around.

Alan stuck his head out, his voice echoing in the parking garage. "_Flynn, it's about time you showed up..."_ He couldn't help but grin at his old friend, who at the moment looked more youthful than he'd seen him since his return from the Grid.

Kevin locked the bike, and stuck the helmet under his arm, walking towards the door. "_Yeah, well,... took surface streets, which, man, sure have changed! But, yeah, wanted to give Sam time to get here and work the,...you know, whaddya' call it -...the foo-foo on the cameras."_

"_Kung fu, Dad. Not foo-foo."_ Sam chuckled.

"_Yeah?...okay, kung fu, then."_ Kevin kept the look of mock surprise, then finally broke a grin and winked as he handed him the keys to the bike. Sam smirked and rolled his eyes, realizing he'd been had.

Alan looked at his watch as they headed for the elevators. _"Figure we've still got a good hour or so. The rock star's upstairs working his kung fu right now."_

Kevin raised an eyebrow, _"Yeah? How's he takin' all this?...This place, I mean?" _

Alan shrugged, pressing the button. _"Oh, like a fish to water. Except for the vending machines. The candy machine took his quarters, and he had a full-blown George Costanza Twix fit over it."_

Kevin looked at Alan, somewhat puzzled. He could well imagine Clu pitching some sort of tantrum over such an imperfection, but he had no idea who the Costanza employee was or why it was relevant.

_"Who,...what?"_

Both Alan and Sam answered him at the same time. _"Never mind."_

The elevator chimed, and the doors opened. They stepped out into the hallway, heading for Alan's office. Kevin was looking around, still marveling over the massive building and the clean, sophisticated architecture. He gave a sad smile, thinking to himself.  
><em>...man,...wish Jordan could see this place...<em>

Just then they reached Alan's office. Alan stopped in the open doorway, forcing himself to stifle a grin. Kevin peered around his shoulder. Across the room, Clu was crouched over the keyboard, staring at the monitor screen with complete focus and determination. With his long disheveled hair hanging nearly to the keys, his intense eyes and furrowed brow, he looked like a young mad-scientist version of Kevin. Then he spoke, talking to the computer in a low, grumbled voice, completely unaware of their presence.

"_Come on!..."_ he growled, eyes narrowing as he tapped insistently on the arrow keys, scrolling down through rows and rows of code. _"Come on, data! I know you're in there, now stop playing games!"_

Kevin closed his eyes and chuckled, because it was just too surreal. At the sound, Clu jumped and whirled around.

"_Oh. Hi."_ he leaned back in his chair, regarding Kevin, Alan and Sam with a small self-conscious grin. Then he looked back at the screen, his studious frown returning. _"Haven't found Abraxas yet. I've found two possibilities, one with nearly identical code, but they're both claiming to be some other file."_

Alan gave a smirk. _"In this world, files don't actively claim to be anything. They're just named by the User who wrote them."_

"_Well, this one's the closest in structure. Almost identical to the way Abraxas would operate. Do you suppose someone named it something else to throw us off?"_

"_To throw US off, specifically? Don't know. But yes, to throw someone off, possibly. I'm surprised the virus protection Sam loaded on there hasn't caught it." _Alan stepped close, leaning down to the screen._ "Let's take a look..."_

Clu sat back, as Alan scrolled through the code. Then he shook his head. _"Kevin? Would you recognize him-...I mean, it? Abraxas?"_

Kevin shook his head, leaning close to examine the data onscreen. _"The program in personified form, yes. But in terms of code, not sure. Probably not unless I was on the Grid and could see his disk. This...this looks, well, could be, but... " _

His voice trailing off, he stood up again, shaking his head. _"...you know, I still don't get it. Abraxas. That was so very, very long ago. Without his disk, how would he be able to be 'rezzed again?"_

Kevin walked a few steps away, and sighed.

Still looking at the screen, Clu shook his head, perplexed, as he sat thinking back over the cycles.  
>He'd been alerted to Abraxas' demise after the Regulator had exploded, but he'd assumed the disk was derezzed with him. Just prior to that, Jarvis and the guards had likely had the last contact with the virus.<br>Then the thought finally occurred, and if he'd still had circuits, they would have gone ice cold for a nanocycle. _Jarvis.  
>Could it have been him?<em>  
>Jarvis certainly would have had access. A clone of the disk's data? Or perhaps somehow, the real thing?<br>It was starting to look like one or the other. And the aide had kept it to himself all those cycles.  
>But why? Why would Jarvis have done such a thing? That didn't make sense.<br>And yet, the more he sat there thinking, yes it did make sense.  
>Of course it did - after all, hadn't he witnessed the aide's duplicity and betrayal himself, on his command ship when Sam Flynn was aboard?<br>Of course he had, which was why he'd derezzed the traitor on the spot. And while Clu knew he'd made many heinous mistakes overseeing the Grid, at this moment he had difficulty seeing that as one of them. Still, the way it made him feel to recall it now, was so unlike how it had made him feel at the time. Now he only felt sad, empty, foolish for ever having entrusted the aide to begin with, and the only real anger he felt, was at himself.

_"Clu?..."_ Kevin was waving his hand in front of his young look-a-like, who stared off into space. _"You out to lunch or what?"_

Clu looked up at him, refocusing his attention, his expression somber. _"Sorry. I was just...thinking."_

Just then, a small 'beep' caught his attention. It was a notification from the virus protection program, accompanied by a prompt on the screen. The virus had been identified and confirmed.

Clu looked at Alan questioningly. _"It says 'infection found, do you want to quarantine?'...should I tell it to quarantine?"_

"_No." _Alan frowned, waving him out of the way. Clu stood up, and Alan took the seat. _"I'm taking the damn thing apart, the old fashioned way. Move over. Now it's my turn for some kung fu."_

"_Go, Alan."_ Sam chuckled. Then he looked at Kevin, nodding in Alan's direction with a smirky grin. _"Man, never knew he was this much of a badass."_

Kevin raised both brows, nodding with a slight grin. _"Who do you think wrote Tron?"_

Alan wasn't even listening. Intent on the screen and fingers flying over the keys, he typed for quite a few seconds. Then he looked up at Sam. _"Network's down, right?"_

Sam nodded.

"_Good. Time for some isolated thinking."_ he chuckled to himself, typing again.

Kevin stepped closer, watching Alan work. The programmer had isolated the virus' lethal self-replicating code and disarmed it, changing the file's attributes, removing it's admin permissions, then began literally deleting it line by line and rewriting it as a data file instead, saving it to the desktop using the root directory syntax. Exiting the command-line dialogue he then went to the desktop and dragged the file to the waste bin. With a ceremonious crunching sound, the erstwhile virus was no more. A moment later, its history was swept from the registry. Then he gave a wry grin, sighed, re-started the virus scan program, and looked at Kevin.

"_Well, that's one less copy of it. Encom's Abraxas-free. There's still your old system, and, God knows __how many others. But this is a start."_

_"Good job, ...Tron."_ Kevin grinned and patted him on the shoulder.

Sam pointed towards the hallway. _"Should I go bring the network up again?"_

Alan looked at his watch. _"Yep. Probably so. We should get out of here too. You riding with me this time, Flynn?"_

"_Yeah..."_ Kevin nodded, then looked at Sam. "...y_ou meet us at the arcade, right?"_

Sam nodded, grabbing the bike helmet and looking at his watch. _"I'll give you guys about ten minutes' head start, then I'll put the cameras back online. 'That enough time?"_

Alan nodded, shutting off his computer. _"Plenty. You two ready?"_Kevin nodded. Alan glanced at Clu who was admiring the Tron action figure he'd found on Alan's shelf. Clu looked back at him, nodding, then quickly replaced the action figure to it's proper place.

Alan led the way out of the office, with Kevin and Clu in tow. Kevin was still looking around at the architecture all the way to the elevators, but Clu was quietly walking along looking at the carpet and seeming deep in thought. He didn't say a word on the elevator, and it wasn't until a few moments later as they walked to Alan's car that he finally spoke. Kevin had a feeling he knew what Clu was about to say.

"_Alan?" _

"_Yes?"_

"_How come Tron has a statue of himself and I don't?"_

Alan looked over at Kevin, with a smirky grin. Taking this as his cue, Flynn looked over at Clu and explained as they got in the car.

"_You do, buddy. And, it's called an action figure. Betcha' Sam still has yours. 'Gave it to him when he was just a little boy."_

"_Really?" _Clu's tone brightened instantly from the back seat.

"_Yep..."_ Kevin nodded, clicking his seat belt into position, _"...'used to tell him bedtime stories about you and Tron, too. All about what heroes you two were, and how you were my good friends. Told him I'd take him to the Grid one day to meet ya', too." _

Clu stared at him, clearly moved by this, and not quite sure what to say. But there wasn't time to say anything, because just then, Alan got in the car, nodding at Flynn with a smirk

"_Yeah, too bad golden boy here didn't get his own action figure..."_ Alan he did a half-turn in the seat, grinning back at Kevin's look-a-like. _"...of course, I guess he kinda' did. Yours."_

Then he turned back around, putting the keys in the ignition and looking at his watch. _"Made it down here in five minutes. Next stop, arcade?"_

Kevin nodded. _"Yeah. Wouldn't mind stopping and grabbing a bottle of water on the way though, maybe a snack." _

Clu chimed in from the back seat, frowning. _"I still want that Tix. The machine wouldn't release it."_

Alan rolled his eyes, smirking as he corrected him. _"Twix, Clu. And, let it go, alright? They have them in stores too."_

Kevin just chuckled. _ "We'll stop and get you one, buddy."_

Alan started the car, and a few moments later they were rolling out of the parking garage.


	21. Chapter 21

Los Angeles  
>Flynn's Arcade<p>

* * *

><p>Kevin stood looking up at the neon sign across the front of the old brick building, recalling the years when the place was in its glory days.<br>Back then he'd missed his old job at Encom, and he'd been yearning for justice after what Dillinger had done, but at least he'd still had the arcade. It was his, and no one could take it from him. And even if it didn't always clear him much more profit than to keep the lights on, it sure was nice having a place where everyone knew him, respected him, liked him. Even now, the fragments of those old, near-forgotten memories still flooded his mind, bringing a smile.  
>Then there was the one memory in particular which he recalled as though it were only yesterday<em>...stepping off of the helicopter on the roof of Encom, his hair blowing every which way and the briefcase in his hand, running over to greet Alan and Lora...elated, triumphant, he'd captured the both of them in a hug and the three of them stood laughing, rejoicing, so carefree, so certain that the future held only bright promise for Encom and for all of them...<em>

Little had he known it way back then, but that brightness would soon fade slowly to a darkness he'd never before experienced. And of course he hadn't seen it coming, but then again no one really ever does. Time had flown by while he was running the company, raising a son, working on the Grid, writing his books. Then there was the sudden tragedy of Jordan's accident, and just after that, his mom had fallen ill. He'd coped with the loss by immersing himself into the Grid and the miracle of the ISO's - the hope for eradication of disease, perhaps even for a way to end death, all of that was what had compelled him so, and along with his young son, the Grid had been the only thing keeping him from collapsing under the emotional weight of what had happened.  
>Because off-Grid, his life had suddenly become so very far from perfect, so filled with loss, so much pain he could neither face nor reconcile. The world had suddenly seemed filled with imperfect, tragic characters, and he'd become just one more of them. So had it been any wonder he'd wanted to build the perfect system on the Grid?<br>Of course he'd never planned on that spiraling beyond his control, but then again, he'd always been an idealist.

And now here he was, two decades later, staring up at that same old arcade sign. In some ways, it felt like he was right back at square one again.  
>His gaze traveled sadly down from the neon sign and he shook off the wistful memories, snapping himself back to the present he walked in through the doorway.<p>

Alan stood talking on his cell phone, a few feet away from the Tron machine, which was pulled away from the wall and propped into position with a chair. The programmer paced back and forth while he spoke.

"_Tron, I understand. I do. But, no, I don't want you to do that. And besides-"_ Alan paused, sighing as Flynn approached with a curious look. Then he shook his head and continued, _"...look, we'll be back there soon...it's late, and there isn't much more we can do here right now anyway. So just,...you two sit tight,...and we'll discuss this more when we get there, alright?"_

As Alan disconnected the call, Kevin raised a brow. _"Kinda' afraid to ask, but,... what's up?"_

Alan gave a wry smile, tucking the cell phone back into his pocket.

_"Oh,...Tron's just,...well, mostly he's just bored,...but also, agitated. Said the same blue-gray van has driven by the house three times so far. He got the idea to run outside and use Quorra's cell phone to take a picture of it. And of course Quorra was in favor of that plan. I told him it had 'bad idea' written all over it."_

"_And what'd he say to that?"_ Kevin's brow arched in curiosity.

"_Well,... he didn't quite get the slang expression. But, I rephrased and he's clear on it now..." _

Alan added with a worried frown and a smirk,_ "...I HOPE."_

Kevin nodded, trying to dismiss the disturbing thought of Tron and Quorra venturing outside the house and chasing down some mysterious van in hopes of capturing a photo of it.  
><em>...yeah, because there isn't a thing that could go wrong with that scenario...<em>

His eyes narrowed as he looked at Alan. _"Van, huh?...Same one?"_

"_Sounds like it could be. Blue-gray. He said it had, and I quote, 'large, rectangular fields of circuitry' on the sides."_

Alan tried not to grin, but really aside from Tron's description of a panel van, this wasn't all that funny. _"But...really, there are probably hundreds of vans like that around. Could be totally unrelated, just a coincidence."_

Kevin returned Alan's glance with a nod, and Alan matched the nod.  
>Though neither of them said so, neither of them were leaning towards the 'coincidence' theory.<br>They both stared at the ground for a moment, thinking.

Clu emerged from the passageway behind the Tron machine, and seeing that it appeared Kevin and Alan were apparently discussing something of some seriousness, he simply walked quietly over to stand behind them. When he was about two meters away, he cleared his throat, preparing to speak.  
>Both men jumped and whirled around, startled.<p>

Kevin exhaled a sigh. _"Clu! Man,...h-...how many times do I gotta' ask you not to sneak up behind me and scare me like that? You spooked Alan too."_

Clu's eyes widened. _"Well I'm sorry, Kevin! But it looked like you two were talking about something important, so I didn't want to interrupt." _He crossed his arms and smirked._ "What do you want me to do, signal my approach with a klaxon?"_

Kevin stared at him, suddenly breaking into surprised laughter at having Clu give him an unexpected taste of his own sarcasm. He shook his head. _"Well,...yeah! Or somethin'..." _

Alan gave a smirky grin. _"Did you need to ask us something, Clu?"_

"_Well, yes. But,..."_ Clu frowned, his voice trailing off.

Kevin raised his brows, dipping his chin. _"But what, buddy?"_

Clu grimaced, slightly perplexed. _"It... seems I've forgotten." _ He stood frowning, and then sighed, looking back at Kevin, somewhat baffled by the fact that he'd forgotten the very reason he'd come upstairs to begin with. _"Well, that's annoying."_

Kevin just gave a wry grin. _"Happens to me all the time, buddy. Usually means you're tired, or, you've got too many things on your mind. Sometimes memory's a funny th-"_

"_That's it!"_ Clu interrupted, eyebrows hitching upward as he pointed at Kevin. _"Memory! The memory __allotment for your system. Sam wants to know if you have any more memory he could install."_

Kevin gave him a confused look. _"Wh- ...memory? That machine should be maxed out already. I mean, yeah, sure,...there's probably some cards...on the shelves,...but,..."_

His voice trailed off, and he stood thinking. There should be more than enough memory for that machine to do anything it needed to do, and then some. Unless, this had to do with the virus?

Clu started to turn back towards the Tron machine. _"I'll tell him to look on the shelves then."_

Kevin's brows furrowed. _"Hold up, Clu,...I'm going with you. I wanna' see what's going on."_

: : : :

_An hour later..._

With hardly any traffic on the freeway at that hour, Alan took advantage of the chance to set the cruise control after he'd settled into the carpool lane. The Ducati was quite a distance up ahead of them, and Alan didn't want to think of how fast his godson was driving to be that far ahead of them. So instead he just settled back in the seat, thankful for virtually empty roads.

Clu was silent in the back seat, resting his head back against the headrest with his eyes closed. Alan wasn't certain, but from the glance in the rear-view mirror, it looked like Clu was sleeping.  
>In the passenger's seat, Kevin sat staring off out the window at nothing in particular, thoughts brewing. After several silent moments he finally spoke.<p>

"_This memory thing just-... does not jazz me. Not at all. Nor does the fact that the machine's been altered, and that we found no trace of Master Control in the system. And man,... how likely is it that even between the four of us we couldn't isolate that damn Abraxas virus? I mean, he's not even a single entity anymore, not even close to it. Total fragmentation, replication. Like I've never seen. Not even the ISO's grew this fast." _

He shook his head and he rubbed his eyes, then with a frustrated sigh he let his hand flop down onto the armrest. "_You know what this means? We may have to reset the whole Grid. And if we do that,...I don't know what that's gonna' mean...for the..."_

His voice trailed off. But from the look on his face, Alan knew what he was going to say, and so he said it for him.

"_...for the programs."_

Kevin nodded. _"Beings, Alan. They're beings, with lives, as real as you and me. Maybe not alive in the same way but,...yeah, living. Real. You saw it. You were there."_

Alan just nodded, his expression somber.

Kevin shook his head again._ "How can I-...I mean, who,...who gives me the authority to just breeze in and reset their whole existence like that? There's no way of knowing what it would do to them."_

Alan was silent a few seconds. Then he glanced over at Kevin and spoke, his voice compassionate.

"_I know, Flynn. I know. But you have to realize...leaving them like that, subjected to whatever it is that's taking place on the Grid now – which, by the way, is something we have no way of knowing from the outside - in other words, just leaving them that way...it's far worse. Far more...inhumane,...for lack of a better term. By resetting the system, you may be giving them the only chance they'd have,...at any kind of life."_

Kevin just looked down for long moments. Being called 'the Creator' on the Grid was one thing, but this? This was something he'd never once thought he'd have to do - decide the fate of millions.

Just then, from the back seat his own voice spoke softly. "_He's right, Kevin. And, I haven't calculated the odds, but, chances are the reset would simply turn back Grid-time. It should simply eliminate Abraxas, and restore the system to it's pre-contaminated state."_

Kevin nodded. _"Should. But the problem is, those odds, Clu. We need to calculate 'em. Because otherwise, that's a really big iffy-looking should."_

Clu simply nodded, then sat very quietly for a long time, thinking.

After a few moments, rapidly approaching headlights in the rear view mirror caught Alan's attention.  
>Then he sighed, raising an eyebrow and grumbling under his breath. <em>"Of all the-...there's two cars on the whole road. What, like you can't go around me?..."<em>

"_What?"_ Kevin looked over at him.

"_Nothing. Just- ... this guy's just going to ride my bumper until I ditch the carpool lane, I guess. Which, I suppose I will,...just to keep him from crawling up my tail-pipe. "_

Giving an irked sigh, he tapped the brakes gently, feeling the car decelerate as the cruise control deactivated. Then he signaled and changed lanes, watching as the black town-car with tinted windows sped up and passed them. But oddly, after it passed them, the driver slowly changed lanes, veering the car over to the right lane, where it then stayed, tracking along at the same speed with them.  
>Alan slowed slightly, and the car slowed. When he sped up again, the car did the same.<p>

He finally veered back into the carpool lane, and glanced at Kevin with a suspicious smirk. _"You're seeing this, right?"_

Eyes narrowed, Kevin glanced casually over at the mysterious black car. _"Mm-hm. Sure am."_

Alan gave another smirk, murmuring quietly as he flipped on the radar detector at his visor. He pressed the accelerator again. _"Well,... let's just find out what this is about, shall we?"_

When the speedometer passed 80 mph, Kevin raised his eyebrow.  
>When it hit 85, he looked at Alan curiously. "<em>Man,... what're you doin'? I mean, besides 85 miles an hour that is. You tryin' to get us pulled over?"<em>

"_No." _Alan gave a smirk. "_I'm trying to figure out how committed this guy is to tracking us. Really high-end black municipal vehicle. If he was a cop, or a Fed, he would have either stopped us by now or stayed behind us in pursuit."_

Kevin looked at him incredulously. _"So,...what- you're gonna' drag race with him?"_

This got Clu's attention. With a click he released his seat-belt and leaned forward in the back seat, looking at the two of them as he leaned over the center console.

"_Is this going to be like 'The Fast And Furious' thing we saw on television?"_

Kevin looked at Clu, slightly confused. Alan just chuckled, and answered in a calm voice. _"No, Clu. And that was HBO. A movie, not regular television. Sit back and re-fasten your safety belt for me, please. Okay?"_

Clu frowned, seeming disappointed, but then settled back into the seat, clicking the seat-belt back onto position.  
>Kevin watched as they began to slowly catch up with Sam's bike which was in the lane up ahead. He glanced over at the speedometer which now verged on 90 mph, and then he just looked at Alan, chuckling.<p>

"_Man,...first the kung fu,...now this. You're just full of surprises, Alan."_

The programmer gave a wry, smirky grin, _"I have my moments."_

At 93 mph, the car in the far right lane finally slowed and dropped out of parallel with them, just as the next freeway exit sign loomed ahead. A few seconds later, Alan watched in the rear-view mirror as the car put on its turn signal and suddenly merged onto the exit ramp, leaving the freeway.

Up ahead of them, Sam's tail lights flashed twice, and then he put on his left turn signal.

Kevin looked over at Alan. _"There's no exit from this lane. What's Sam doing?"_

Alan shook his head ever so slightly. _"Not sure. But there's a left-exit up ahead soon to change freeways. I think he's been watching what's going on. Maybe he wants us to take an alternate route home."_

Kevin's eyes narrowed as he watched Sam continuing into the freeway connector lane, and then he nodded, murmuring softly. _"Good call, kiddo."_

: : :

The traffic on the 110 freeway was significantly heavier. After a couple of miles, Sam's bike slowed up ahead, and he put on his right turn signal, pointing his gloved hand to the right as he veered into the next lane.

Alan tilted his head, slowing down and signaling to follow Sam. _"Wait- where's he going now?" _

Kevin's eyes narrowed, and he looked at the exit sign up ahead. _"Think I know. Used to take him riding on back of the bike when he was just a boy. Surface streets around here. Winding roads, low speed limits, residential, mostly. He may want to make sure we're not being followed."_

Alan's brow quirked as he followed Sam down the exit ramp. _"Well,...that's certainly a way to do it I guess. I'm not sure where the heck we are."_

Kevin shrugged. _"I know. Well,...I think I know. I used to. 'Lot's changed though, I'm sure."_

Alan gave him a skeptical look, flipping on the other small device which was attached to his visor. _"And, that's why we have GPS."_

"_GPS?" _Kevin looked up quizzically as the device illuminated. This was one of those times when he felt like a mere tot in the new world of technology.

"_Global Positioning System. Satellite tracking."_ Alan answered, pressing another button_. _

Kevin looked at Alan, his eyes widening. _"Satellite tracking? You kiddin' me? And we're worried about some weird car keeping pace with us on the freeway?"_

Alan frowned. _"That's-...but-...well,... good point."_ He immediately reached up and turned off the GPS unit, then disconnected the power cable from the side of it and un-clipped it from the visor.  
>Kevin was still looking at the small device curiously, and so he handed it to him.<p>

"_There you go, Flynn. A digital world-atlas and a compass, all rolled into one. The size of a cellular phone."_

Kevin sighed. _"Yeah, still wrapping my head around the size of a cellular phone these days." _

Just then, Clu spoke up from the back seat. _"Kevin,...why does Alan still call you 'Flynn'?"_

Kevin turned his head to look at him. _"Clu,...of all the odd questions. Because, buddy,...that's...just what he's always called me."_

The logic in the answer didn't set well with Clu.

"_But, that's what Tron and I have always called you, too. Then you asked us to start calling you 'Kevin' instead."_

Alan smirked, glancing over to see Kevin looking stymied with his mouth still open.

"_W-...well,...it's-..."_ Kevin paused, then sighed, frustrated. _"Help me out here, Alan."_

Chuckling, Alan glanced in the rear view mirror, making eye contact with Clu who seemed genuinely puzzled over this odd pecking-order of names and familiarity.

"_I usually call him 'Flynn' when I'm being sarcastic, joking around with him. Sometimes I call him __'Kevin' too, or, even 'Kev'...or, occasionally,...if I'm really peeved, somewhat disparaging things."_

Kevin grinned at him. _"You call me somewhat disparaging things?"_

Alan gave a smirky grin. _"Well, no, Fl-...Kevin. Not to your face."_

Kevin shook his head, laughing. But when he glanced back at Clu, he could see from the frown on his doppelganger's face that he was still confused by all of this. Rightly so, because it didn't actually make much sense, but, he had a feeling he knew what Clu was getting hung-up on anyway.

"_Look,...Clu,...here's the thing,..."_ he began, then paused, glancing over at Alan who was still smirking. He shot a smirk right back at Alan, then turned to Clu again. _"When I asked you and Tron to call me 'Kevin',...there was a reason there. Because until then you'd always seen me as, well, something like,...a boss, a superior, something like that."_

"_As the Creator."_ Clu added, with a clarifying nod.

Kevin raised an eyebrow. _"Well, yeah,...that too. And,...well that's kind of my point. Up 'til then I'd been only that to you. The Creator. But, after all the cycles...I learned so much, from my mistakes, from,... everything. I decided I wanted to do things differently, that I wanted you to start seeing me as...a friend, more like equals,..teammates,...or...like,..."_

"_Brothers?..."_ Clu interrupted, his eyebrows raised questioningly.

"_Yeah. Like brothers."_ Kevin smiled. That was pretty much the term he'd been looking for. And judging from the slight smile playing at the corners of Clu's mouth, it was just what Clu had been hoping to hear. He grinned more fully, the logic of all this clearly working itself nicely in his head.

"_You're the old one, of course..."_ Then Clu paused, immediately sensing his faux-pas in wording, and corrected himself quickly, somewhat awkwardly. _"Er. Old-er. The older one, I mean."_

Still grinning, Kevin's brow quirked to a slight frown. _"...yyyyeah. The older one." _

Alan tried to suppress a chuckle and failed miserably at it, eventually spluttering into muffled laughter. Kevin smirked at him, eyes narrowing. _"Yeah, laugh it up, Alan. You're older than me, pal."_

Alan raised his eyebrows. _"Yes, but I'm not the one who looks like Father Time. You know, with the beard and all."_

Seeing Kevin's smirk turn towards more of an insulted glower, Alan smiled. _"I'm kidding, Kevin. You don't look a day over...forty. Ish. Really."_

Kevin's smirk did not lessen, nor did his frown. Instead he just raised an eyebrow, and looked back at Clu speculatively. "_So. Anyway. All this. The names thing. Make more sense to you now, Clu?"_

"_I think so..."_ Clu nodded, pausing for a moment, thinking. Then he tilted his head slightly, voicing his conclusion. _"So, when you're brothers, or, friends, ...you can call each other by your first name or your __last name, and no loss of familiarity is implied. Because it's less about the name and more about the sentiment or, affection, behind it."_

Kevin grinned, giving a slight nod. _"Exactly. You pretty much got it, buddy." _

Clu nodded in acknowledgment. He was about to ask if all friends bickered as much as Alan and Kevin did, and whether that was a peculiar sign of endearment, but then he realized that's exactly what he and Tron did most of the time, too. Before he could muse over it further, Alan's voice changed the subject.

"_NOW where's he going? We are officially in the boonies, folks."_

The car slowed, as Alan followed Sam into an alleyway which ran parallel to the main thoroughfare they'd been on. At the end of the alley was an intersection with a small side-street, and Sam pulled the bike up to park behind the gas station on the corner. He looked around, then walked to the driver's side of the car as Alan was rolling down the window.

Alan just looked at him with curious, raised brows. He knew Sam had a plan, he just didn't have any idea what it was.

Kevin leaned across the center console, looking up at his son. _"You takin' us the back way through Mexico, or what, kiddo?"_

Sam gave the hint of a grin and looked around again, nodding slightly as he spoke. _"Yeah, sorry,...kind of wasn't expecting that car thing. Call me paranoid but, you know, all things considered."_

Kevin shook his head ever so slightly, reassuring him. _"No,...no, you did the right thing kiddo. We're fine with it. Just wondering where you wanna' head from here." _

Sam pointed at the side-street._ "This'll lead us all the way over the canyon. Winds around, ends up just down the hill from Alan's subdivision. About three miles or so, and a couple of turns. I only stopped here 'cause I need to gas up the bike."_

Kevin nodded. "_I dig. Vaguely remember the way. Why don't we sit tight while you fill up, then you lead." _

Sam gave a nod of his own, and stepped away towards the bike. Just then, Clu sat forward slightly, looking out the window at the convenience store which was part of the gas station. Then looking back at Kevin, he asked in almost a whisper. _"Do you think they have Twix here?"_

Kevin sighed, realizing they'd forgotten to stop at a store on the way to the arcade. After a pause, he rolled down his window. _"Sam?..."_

Sam stopped, then walked back over to the car. Kevin gave him an apologetic grin. _"Mind getting a Twix?...for Clu?"_

With a slight grin, Sam nodded. Then he looked at Alan and Kevin. _"You two want anything?"_ Both men shook their heads. He turned around and headed back to the bike.

Just then, Alan's phone chirped. Pulling the cell from his jacket pocket, he was surprised to see a missed-call notification, from his house phone number.

"_That's odd. It didn't ring."_ He looked at Kevin, then shrugged, and redialed the number. After a brief pause, he spoke. "_Hello?...Tron. Yes, it's Alan. You called me?" _

He paused again, listening, then frowned. _"You didn't? Well. That's weird. Must have been from when you called earlier. Although,... I didn't actually miss that call-..."_

Sighing, he redirected himself, glancing at his watch. _"Oh well, whatever. I don't know. Anyway, we'll be back soon. Everything alright there?"_

There was a much longer pause, and then he raised a wary eyebrow, looking slightly alarmed. "_What...exactly ...do you mean by... 'cooking'?"_

Kevin's brows raised, and he looked over at Alan, his mind suddenly filled with visualizations of Quorra and/or Tron and/or the both of them making a disastrous mess and/or causing a potential fire-hazard in the kitchen while attempting to cook.

But Alan's smile was a good sign. _"I see. Well, sounds like a good snack. Alright then, we'll see you shortly."_

He disconnected the call. Then he looked at Kevin with a smirk. "_They're making a surplus of toast, for sandwiches. Apparently Quorra has a fascination with how the toaster operates."_

Kevin grinned, chuckling under his breath. _"Yep. Sounds about like Q."_

Just then Sam was approaching the car, holding up the requested candy bar with a wry grin. He handed it to Kevin. _ "There ya' go." _

Clu's eyes lit up as Kevin handed it to him. _"Thank you! Yes, that's it! It looks exactly like the other ones did."_

Kevin looked up at Sam, and gave a slight shrug and a grin. _"Thanks, kiddo. He's been really wanting one. The vending machine stiffed him at Encom."_

Sam shrugged, then looked over the seats at Clu, who was eagerly tearing open the candy wrapper. "_Yeah, man, the one on the second floor? It does that to me too sometimes." _

Alan looked across at Sam, starting the car again. _"Okay. So. You lead, we follow?"_

Nodding, Sam gave a slight mock-salute and a grin, then turned back towards the bike. Within a few moments, they were a small convoy of bike plus car, winding their way cautiously through the canyon.

After what seemed like a small forever of driving, finally Alan was pulling the car into the garage. As they all three walked up the driveway, Alan looked at his watch, then smirked at Kevin.

"_Well,...no mysterious vans or cars in the neighborhood. No one chased us. The house appears to be intact. And, we actually made it home before sunrise. Things are looking up."_


	22. Chapter 22

The Grid

* * *

><p>The arcade simulation seemed to be one of the few places which had been spared from the rioting, most likely because it was abandoned and generally of little interest anyway...programs had long since stopped believing in the Users, and over the many cycles the erstwhile shrine of the mythological Kevin Flynn had become simply a forgotten landmark.<p>

Which made it a very convenient place for Ed Jr. to 'rezz in, especially considering he hadn't known quite what to expect given the state of the Grid when he'd left it.

Upon his first cautious walk to explore the grounds around the arcade, he'd found that for some odd reason a tall ladder had been left leaning against the side building in the rear lot. And so he climbed it, relieved when he found the roof deserted, and then he stood surveying the desolate streets from this vantage point.

Something had certainly stilled the chaos in the city, that was for sure. The simmering undercurrent of danger was still there, but whatever had caused it seemed to have blown through and passed like a storm, leaving in its wake only stillness, broken landscapes, deserted buildings with windows derezzed, fragments of data scattered everywhere, remnants of orphaned pixels littering the empty streets. There were no programs in sight.  
>In the distance the towers still glowed, and luminous bands still trimmed every feature of the city, every walkway, lighting the way for no one.<br>It was a virtual neon ghost town.

He had his work cut out for him. Or, they did, he should say.  
>Which reminded him - he probably needed to go contact his father and update him on the situation.<br>Climbing back down the ladder, he entered the arcade once more, making his way to the small room which mirrored Flynn's basement lab in the real world arcade. He found it a pleasant surprise when the inactive interface desk sprang to life at his touch, and a display appeared. He gave a wry grin, musing silently.  
><em>...good...the User powers work again...<br>_  
>A somewhat less pleasant surprise was the fact that the transmission from the MCP was already initiating by itself on the touchscreen.<br>He mused in his thoughts once more, finding the timing coincidental.  
><em>...well dad, you read my mind...<em>

And just then, the words appeared on the screen, accompanied by the eerie deep electronic voice to which he'd never quite gotten accustomed.

_WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG?

He sighed, rolling his eyes and grumbling wordlessly that which of course he wouldn't dare say.  
><em>...what part of "I just got heresurveying the damage takes time" do you not understand?..._

Yet before he could type a reply, more words appeared.

_DESIST WITH THE FLIPPANT TONE.

_AND THAT WASN'T WHAT I MEANT BY 'WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG'.

Ed Junior stared at the interface display, feeling a cold chill run through him.  
>He was starting to understand what his father meant, and his delay in comprehending had simply been because he hadn't realized this was even technologically possible, at least aside from in theory and in science fiction. But the reply typing itself onscreen told him that apparently it was.<p>

_YES. IT'S BEEN POSSIBLE FOR DECADES.

_AT LEAST, ON THE GRID.

He frowned, trying not to seethe with anger. As if his father needed to become even more omniscient.  
>Fuming, he crossed his arms and thought back his reply.<br>_...how special...  
>...well, ...want to knock it off, dad?...because it's creepy...<br>_

_FINE. THEN START TYPING.

_AND I SAID SPARE ME THE ATTITUDE.

_I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR IT.

The young man smirked, his eyes narrowing at the irony. Sure his father had time for it...he had all the time in the world, forever actually, and apparently was also quickly approaching the "nearly as powerful as God" status. And both of those thoughts struck Ed Dillinger Junior as being just far too unpleasantly surreal.  
>After a slight hesitation, he began typing.<p>

_I ASSUME YOU DON'T NEED ME TO TELL YOU THE DAMAGE REPORT.

The answer came back swiftly.

_YOU ASSUME CORRECTLY.

_SIMPLY UPLOAD THE PATCH, INITIATE THE LIKENESS UTILITY, THEN EXIT THE GRID.

_I'LL TAKE CARE OF THE REST MYSELF.

_END OF LINE.

He sighed again, and smirked.  
>Well, at least he was useful for something. Apparently the touch of a human hand, or it's digitized equivalent, was still necessary in order to be a Creator on the Grid.<p>

Removing his disk, he 'rezzed an input on the interface and began to upload the patch code into the system.  
>Once the transfer was complete, he sat down in the chair and paused, bracing himself for the reset.<br>For the Grid, it would be a total re-rendering, which would take about a half-millicycle to complete. For him, it would be just like taking a nap. A long nap, but a nap nonetheless. And then afterward, he would bring a copy of himself to life into the digital world, get to the portal, and go back to the real world.  
>Replacing the disk to the hub on his back, he relaxed back in the chair, and closed his eyes.<p>

: : : : : : : :

All across the whole of Tron city the lights powered down completely for several nanos, and then returned to a steady glow.  
>Then in a mass flicker of pixels, damaged code began slowly restructuring itself everywhere, as buildings, structures, walkways and streets all self-repaired. What programs had been still scattering about on foot stopped in place, disoriented, suddenly falling where they were and powering into sleep-mode, those injured restructuring as well.<p>

At the edge of the Outlands, Jarvis remained huddled in the crevice of simulated rock, staring wide eyed at what he saw taking place. For as far as he could see, it was as though the entire city was twinkling with a mysterious pixilated transformation, and the rioters he'd seen near the city's edge were all dormant, their own lightsuits shimmering along with the rest of the city.  
>He blinked, confused, and looked down at his own suit...he was awake, and didn't seem to be undergoing this same strange regeneration process. Staring around him he saw that the entirety of the darkened Outlands were equally unaffected. And then finally he calculated...must be the power issue in the Outlands.<p>

But as he panned his gaze around the city and off towards the Sea of Simulation, what caught his attention next was an unmistakeably familiar sight..._a portal_.

His circuits buzzed with excitement. That was it! That was his ticket out of there! To the real world!  
>He could 'rezz his light-jet and be there at the portal within mere microcycles. He could wait there for whatever User was on the Grid to approach the portal, and then he would do whatever he had to do in order to either go with the User or in place of them. It's what Clu would have done.<br>Yes, that's just what he would do.

Filled with giddy hope, he started to crawl to his feet to stand.  
>But just then it occurred to him...the ground everywhere was also a shimmer, for as far as he could see, and so, what if the ground at the portal platform was affected too? True, he could fly there, but, would he fall into the same strange sleep-mode the other programs had succumbed to, the moment his boots touched ground?<br>This consideration gave him a wary pause, and kept him rooted right where he was.

Several microcycles went by while he waited, pensive, still staring at the portal.  
>He decided that whatever was happening in the city, he could wait this out. Then he could fly there, to the portal.<br>Yes, that's what he would do.  
>He sat back down, nestled against the simulated rock, and waited, and waited, and waited.<p>

Many more microcycles went by. He'd lost count of how many.  
>It seemed as though he'd been waiting for an eternity, and still there was no end to the strange city-wide shimmering.<br>The same odd restructuring continued, and on the streets he could see below, all the programs remained in sleep mode.

The more he thought about it, this was tiring him out just to sit here inert like this.  
>And it was frustrating him, especially considering he had no idea when the portal would close.<br>Which was what spawned perhaps the craziest idea he'd ever had.  
>A bit of aerial daring is what it would require, but he was fairly agile, and if he calculated it just right, maybe he could fly there, deactivate the jet, and land on the portal platform itself?<br>If he missed, he could simply re-rezz the jet and try again, as long as he didn't fall into the Sea.

He thought about this more and more.  
>Yes, perhaps it was a crazy stunt, but the beam itself didn't appear to be flickering - it was as steady and bright as could be - so perhaps it was immune to whatever odd flickering was taking place in the city? Perhaps the whole portal platform was?<br>He'd be able to tell if he flew close to it, surely.  
>And of course he didn't have the key disk to escape, but, if he could execute the landing correctly then he could simply wait right there at the beam, and what better place to be when the User with the key arrived?<p>

This precarious bit of logic somehow cinched his decision, and he stood up slowly, retrieving his light baton.  
>It took him several microcycles to climb to the edge of the angular structures around him, and then he was leaping into the air, the light-jet rezzing around him.<p>

Jarvis was delighted to see that indeed the jet worked just as it should, and it seemed he had more than adequate power to continue this without any difficulty. And so off he sailed towards the Sea, marveling at the glistening transformations taking place in the city far below him. Even the lightning had ceased its usual activity, and the skies were nothing but still, tranquil clouds. It was a peaceful flight indeed, albeit somewhat surreal to be the only active program in the entire city.

As he drew close to the portal, his circuits teemed once more with that same giddy hopefulness...indeed the portal beam was steady. And what's more, as he circled around to get a closer look, it appeared the platform itself was steady as well. No glistening, no restructuring. This was indeed a pleasant discovery, and it would make the landing so much easier to calculate and to execute, because all he had to do was land on the platform itself.  
>After several circular excursions around the portal platform, he'd calculated the trajectory he would need for the drop.<br>Then with one more pass he mustered his courage, flying in low and slowing just at the point he'd surmised would be the most effective place to begin his drop, and then he deactivated the light-jet, grasping the light-baton tightly in his hand.

Plummeting down feet-first towards the platform, he kept himself vertical, bracing himself for what would surely be a rough landing. But then as he looked down to see the circular platform looming ever closer below, his eyes widened as he realized he'd slightly over-calculated his trajectory. He was heading for the opening in the center of the platform. For the beam itself.

The sheer foolhardiness of his stunt was now very clear to him, and there was nothing much he could do to adjust at this point, except to prepare to quickly re-rezz the light-jet once he passed down through the opening of the portal platform.  
>But he'd scarcely reached his hand to retrieve the baton at his hip when suddenly he was flooded with light, and in the half-nanosecond he had to process what was quite unexpectedly happening, he'd already begun to dissolve into the beam itself.<p>

* * *

><p>Los Angeles<br>Flynn's Arcade  
>: : : : : : : : : : : :<p>

The morning sun was filtering through the windows in soft, warm beams, illuminating the dust-particles which had stirred in a small flurry as they'd walked in the door.  
>Kevin made it worse by tripping over the edge of the dust-cover on a nearby machine, sending up a huge cloud of dust. He coughed, and grinned, waving a hand past his face.<p>

"_Man! Amazing! Yeah,...think I need to get after this place with a vacuum cleaner. "_

Alan shuffled in behind him, sneezed once, and then stepped quickly away, waving his hand and sneezing again as he reached for his handkerchief. Then he smirked at Kevin and deadpanned a reply. "_Hm. Yes, who'd have thought this much dust would gather in just a couple of measly decades."_

Kevin gave him a look, continuing to fan at the air with his hands.  
>Just then Clu and Tron wandered in through the door, both of them seeming a bit fascinated by the small illumined particles which floated down through the beams of sunlight. Tron stuck out his hand as if to catch them in his open palm, and grinned, somewhat amused.<p>

"_What is this?"_ The former security program looked like a kid experiencing his first snow.

Kevin chuckled, still waving a hand in the air in an attempt to clear it. _"That'd be dust, buddy. Gets all over stuff when a place sits undisturbed for a while."_

Tron nodded, and then suddenly sneezed, after which he froze in place, eyes wide. And then he sneezed again, eyes widening even more. _"What just happened?"_

Alan laughed. _"Talk about a chip off the old block. I have allergies, you have allergies."_

Tron looked at him, still puzzled, his breath hitching as he revved up for another sneeze. Alan just grinned, grabbed him by the arm gently, and led him right back out the door. Tron looked at him, clearly alarmed.

"_Just a sneeze, Tron. Don't worry. Happens when your nose doesn't like breathing something in the air, so it tries to get rid of it. C'mon,...let's stand outside for a minute, while the dust settles. Get some fresh air."_

Tron nodded, sneezing yet again. Once outside the door, Alan handed him the handkerchief, and his young look-a-like stared at it quizzically, having no idea what it was. Alan sighed.

Kevin chuckled from inside the doorway, and Alan looked over at him, his eyes narrowing. _"The mechanics of nose-blowing. Fantastic. How is it I get to explain all the fun stuff, and you just get to stand there and make wisecracks and laugh?"_

Kevin raised his hands in the air, grinning as he turned and walked further into the arcade, with Clu following behind him. _"Man, did I say a word?"_

Alan smirked and called after him. _"No. But I'm sure you were thinking it."_

Just then, the Ducati pulled up out front. Thankfully the process of explaining the use of a handkerchief went rather swiftly, and so Alan left Tron to the task, turning and walking a few steps to greet Sam.

"_Hey,...what's going on?"_ Sam raised a brow and tilted his head, glancing past Alan to Tron and to the open door of the arcade.

Alan waved a hand. _"Oh, Kevin kicked up some dust from one of the game covers. Turns out Tron has allergies, just like me. Go figure, right?"_

Sam gave a wry grin and nodded. Alan turned, walking back towards the door, and looked up at Tron who seemed a bit awkward. _"It's alright. Should be a bit clearer in there now, let's just walk quickly past the front area, and head down to the office."_

Just then Sam's cell phone rang. He pulled it from his jacket pocket, then frowned and sighed. Encom. His assistant. _"It's Connie. Gotta take this real quick. Go on. I'll catch up."_

Alan nodded, then he and Tron turned, walking in through the doorway and continuing briskly towards the far wall of the arcade. Kevin had pulled the Tron machine out from the wall, and was just propping it into it's retracted position by wedging a chair between it and the wall. He shrugged and grinned, then eased himself around the chair and through the opening in the wall.  
>One by one they each followed Kevin...first Clu, then Tron, then Alan. As the four of them slowly made their way down the stairs, Alan looked at his watch and called down to Kevin.<p>

_"Flynn,...I'm going to have to get to the office shortly. There's a meeting I need to sit in on. But I'm sure Sam can stay here with you until I get back."_

Just reaching the bottom steps, Kevin waved a hand and called back to Alan. _"Nah,...no sweat, man. I'll get Clu started on the system checks...maybe I'll fire up the vacuum cleaner upstairs,...we'll be just fi-"_

Kevin's voice stopped abruptly when he rounded the corner to the basement lab, and he froze in place.

Clu nearly bumped into him, then looked at him oddly. _"Kevin?...what's the m- "_

But then Clu's voice halted too, just as he glanced in the direction where Kevin was staring. There in the basement lab, eyes impossibly wide and completely panicking as he stumbled slowly backward against the brick wall,...was Jarvis.


	23. Chapter 23

Los Angeles  
>Flynn's Arcade<p>

* * *

><p><em>...man, this isn't happening...it only thinks its happening, right?...<br>...no,...it's pretty much happening...  
><em>  
>Thoughts overlapping and racing, Kevin stood riveted in place, staring almost incomprehensibly as a gathering dread crept over him. From there things seemed to happen in slow motion, and he wasn't sure what unsettled him more...the way Clu pushed past him and vaulted forward into the small dusty lab, or the feral and nearly-inhuman noise he made as he did so.<p>

The next thing Kevin knew, he was bounding forward himself, trying to stop Clu. He didn't quite get to him in time, and then ended up having to duck backward as Clu grabbed Jarvis by the shirt, pulled him away from the wall and hurled him through the air to the floor, his voice seething with rage.

"_...YYYOU!"_ A second later Clu was straddled atop the stunned former aide, pinning him to the ground, his hands gripping the stunned Jarvis' throat.

"_Clu!..."_ Kevin stepped forward and tried to intervene, but Clu just glared up at him and pushed him back with one hand as Jarvis choked and frantically struggled to free the other hand's vice-like grip from his throat.

"_Kevin! This. One's. MINE!" _

The words came forth in a low, hoarse growl through gritted teeth, and hearing it was surreal enough, but the look in his young doppelganger's eyes chilled him to the bone.

Tron wasn't having it. He certainly had no love for Jarvis, and had no idea how the traitorous program had ended up here, but he wasn't about to watch Clu alienate his Creator and commit some act of blind rage against Jarvis, both of which he would only regret later.

_"NO, Clu!" _The former security program leapt across from the stairwell, and in an instant he was behind Clu, grabbing his arms and pulling him off of Jarvis, with Clu trying to fight him every bit of the way.

"_Get off of me!"_ Clu snarled at him, but Tron was stronger and far quicker than Clu expected him to be, as well as far more determined. He calmly captured Clu's arms behind his back, looped one arm through them, and wrapped the other arm around Clu's chest, forcibly holding him back until he finally stopped fighting against him, and even then Tron didn't let go. His voice was low and patient, but unarguably firm.

"_Clu, you're not going to do this! I'm not going to let you. It isn't worth it."_

Tron stood calmly, but firmly, still holding Clu back to make certain he wouldn't lurch forward again at Jarvis. After a few seconds, Tron finally released his grip somewhat, and Clu just stood glaring at Jarvis, brow furrowed and chest still heaving.

Meanwhile, Jarvis tried to scramble to his feet, but fell back again, coughing and looking like a panicked animal, his shifty glance darting past Kevin towards the stairwell where Alan now stood gaping, and then he started to scramble to his feet again. But Kevin just stepped closer to him, towering over him and blocking the way, pointing down at him, eyes hooded by a frown and glaring with intensity.

"_Don't you move!"_ His voice was a low growl, so stern and forceful that it made even Alan flinch from several feet away. Jarvis froze, and just stared up at him.

After several long seconds, Kevin's brow raised slightly, and he lowered his hand. But his gaze was still intensely fixed on Jarvis.

"_How did you get here?"_

Jarvis was shaking, still staring up at him, stricken with complete shock and disorientation. He coughed again and then managed to stammer out the words. _"Th-...the portal. F-...fell."_

Kevin's frown deepened, and he looked at him in confusion. _"What do you mean, the portal fell?"_

"_N-..no,...I fell..."_ Jarvis swallowed, cleared his throat, and then managed to speak a bit less shakily. He was still examining his own hands and arms as though he couldn't believe this was real.

"_I fell...into...the portal."_

Kevin's brows raised. He looked first at Clu, who was still glaring at Jarvis, and then at Tron.

"_How in the...how'd you fall into-...wait,...why was there a port-..." _Kevin stopped and shook his head, visibly frustrated with the questions bombarding his mind all at once. Then he sighed, clenching his jaw. _"...just...get up." _

Jarvis just looked at him. _"You said not to move."_

Kevin's brow furrowed slightly, and he nodded as he spoke, pointing to the desk chair at the console._ "Y-...okay,... you can move now. Get up, and sit down in that chair. You've got some explaining to do."_

Alan was still standing riveted in place on the third step, watching as Jarvis slowly climbed to stand. The erstwhile program shakily took a seat on the small rickety desk chair, all eyes in the room still fixated on him. Alan sighed, as words involuntarily tumbled from him in a half whisper. _"Guess I'm going to be late to that meeting."_

Just then, the sound of rusty hinges from above startled him, as Sam opened the door and started down into the stairwell. Alan whirled around. _"Sam, close that door..." _

Sam's brows rose, and then he closed the door, starting down the stairs as he spoke. _"Hey,...sorry,... had to take that call and-"_

The gravely serious look in his guardian's eyes stopped him. _"What? What's going on?"_

"_There's a...situation." _

Still looking at Alan, Sam descended the last few steps, and then looked to his left, eyes suddenly wide with confusion. "_How the-...how did he get here?"_

"_That's what we're trying to find out..."_ Alan's voice had that low, eerily calm and steady tone that Sam had grown to know well over the years. He arched an eyebrow, looking at his godson, his voice dropping to a barely audible whisper. _"Stay put. In case he tries to bolt."_

Tron had managed to get Clu to back off somewhat, and Clu walked a few steps over to stand near Alan, still glaring at Jarvis. Tron now stood between them and where Jarvis sat.  
>They all watched as Kevin stepped closer to the very addled former aide who sat staring with pensive eyes.<p>

"_You 'rezzed in to the User world. Probably guessed that."_

Jarvis just slowly nodded, his eyes a mixture of pensiveness, disdain and remorse, as though he were a child who'd been caught misbehaving. Then he stared at his hands for a moment, then looked down at his chest, legs, feet,...gone was the red-trimmed suit and circuitry, and in its place was a simple black turtleneck shirt, back pants, and plain black riding boots. He went back to staring at his un-gloved hands, touching them, and wincing at the sensation of strange current which coursed through them as he curled and uncurled his fingers.

Kevin squatted down to eye-level with Jarvis, bracing one knee against the floor. He gave a slight nod, glancing at Jarvis' hands and then back at his face. _"It's normal. It passes. You're in User form now. Takes time to adjust." _

Jarvis just stared back at him, finally resting his hands in his lap, and then he craned his neck, staring around the room, unsettled. When he saw Clu, his hand automatically went back to his throat, rubbing the now-human skin which had suffered the onslaught of wrathful hands.

Kevin's voice brought his attention back, along with his gaze.

"_You're in my office. There's one like it on the Grid."_ He drew in a deep breath, one brow arching slightly as he eyed the wary program who now looked at him again. _"Now,...you wanna' tell us what happened? "_

Jarvis swallowed, eyes blinking as he processed the strange sensations, and then he spoke in stressed fragments of information. _"There was a portal, and...I...had to get away from there...something bad...very unusual...it began happening-...it was after I uploaded the Abraxas code-"_

Clu's hiss and contempt-filled voice interrupted him. _"You mean after you poisoned the Grid, you miserable-" _

But Clu stopped abruptly when Tron turned and laid his hand on his arm, the look in his eyes discouraging him from speaking further. He scowled and swatted Tron's hand away, then just sighed through gritted teeth, silently fuming.

Kevin raised an eyebrow and spoke with his usual calm drawl, his voice almost hypnotic and his gaze still fixed on Jarvis. _"Clu?...that's not helpin', buddy."_

After a pause, he spoke again, this time directly to Jarvis. _"Okay. Let's start with,... you uploaded the __Abraxas code. Why?"_

After a long pause, Jarvis resumed speaking in a tentative voice. _"Because,...something had overtaken the Grid. It was...destroying all semblance of order. A program- no, it wasn't a program but, a User, with-"_ he paused, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. _"...with Clu's robes but I knew it wasn't him. And I knew everything was going to be destroyed. I'd kept a variant of Abraxas, in case of such a thing, and,... I uploaded it. To thwart a successful take-over,...and,..."_

Jarvis paused, flinching when Clu hissed in frustration. Tron turned and shot another look back at Clu, who simply crossed his arms and continued to fume quietly. Then Tron took a step closer to Jarvis, and crossed his own arms, watching.

Kevin just nodded at Jarvis. _"Okay,...not the best solution. But,...go on."_

Jarvis hesitated, then resumed speaking._ "I fled, to the edge of the Outlands,...and then, suddenly...everything began to-...it was a transformation. Damage repairing itself, shimmering,...everything, all around...re-rezzing,..." _Jarvis paused, shaking his head, recalling it vividly in his thoughts.

Kevin eyed Tron and Clu, a heavy sigh escaping him. A system restore. Someone had beaten him to the punch. He looked back at Jarvis, waiting for him to continue.

"_Programs, all around,...I could see them from the hills. They went into sleep-mode, but I didn't. The power Grid. I was beyond it. I knew I would derezz there, and, then I saw there was a portal. It wasn't shimmering like the rest. It was fine, so I flew to it. In my jet. I was hoping to wait for the User to come there, so I could escape. I jumped,...tried to land on the platform, but, I didn't...I fell into the beam...and,..." _Jarvis' voice trailed off, and he just stared uneasily at Kevin, then he looked down at his hands again.

"_Ended up here..."_ Kevin's frown deepened as he looked at the unsettled program, then he stood. _"...and got here, without the key disk." _

Kevin looked over at Clu, and then at Alan, his thoughts swirling, re-postulating. He didn't like the idea which was forming. He knew who the User was on the Grid. And unless it was just some temporary fluke of the power flux during the system reset, then he had a feeling he knew why a key disk was no longer necessary to escape the Grid. He walked a few steps towards Clu, Alan, and Sam, leaving Tron to stare vigilantly down at the seated Jarvis.

Kevin's voice was barely audible as he mused through unpleasant considerations, his thoughts careening in circles.

"_...Dillinger's done a system restore, from his end. Remotely. And now a program 'rezzed back with no key disk...so,...so he's what - going to let just any programs cross over? Surely not,...or- ...or maybe this is just a temporary flux, a glitch? Some factor of the system reset? But if not, then, why?...and where __would they all end up if they 'rezzed back?...surely not here..."_

His voice trailing off, Kevin just stood and looked at the three of them, hands on his hips.  
>Clu lowered his gaze to the floor, thoughts rapidly scouring through the implications of what that might mean, and whether it was even a high probability in the first place.<br>Sam sighed, inwardly seething at Ed Dillinger Junior just on general principles, but especially for this new development.  
>Alan thought for several long moments, his brows furrowed. Then he looked up, eyes stern and one brow quirking upward.<p>

"_Nope. Not here. Encom."_

"_What?"_ Kevin looked at his old friend like he had three heads. _"What- Encom? ...How's he gonna' hide a-...a bunch of programs, just-...I don't know, randomly popping into his office-..." _

His voice trailed off.  
>Actually, something about it made sense. The Dillingers were smarter than that. They could hide anything they wanted to, in plain sight. A second later, on the same wavelength with him just like always, Alan voiced similar thoughts.<p>

"_No,... if that were to happen, he wouldn't hide them. He'd groom them to act like they belong there. Posing as interns, maybe. Who knows. But,..."_

Alan paused, thinking a moment more, and then waving his hand absently as he resumed.

" _But...no, I don't think that's the plan. That's far-fetched. I think we're getting way ahead of ourselves. I think you're right about this being some temporary thing though. A glitch maybe. I don't think it would have happened if Jarvis hadn't jumped into the beam when he did."_

Kevin nodded, considering it. Just then Clu chimed in. _"The odds do support that. At least, at this point."_

Alan continued. _" This is...was... a closed system. Just one server. Yours. The Grid originated here. Even if it's been networked to Encom now and exists there too, it's re-setting, so then,... maybe that's why Jarvis 'rezzed back here. And Junior knows he'd be a fool to show up here, so,...he'd wait and 'rezz back to Encom."_

He paused, and raised an eyebrow._ "I'd sure love to buzz on back to the office, be there when he does. In fact,...I oughtta' wait for him right outside his door-"_

Alan stopped, just as Jarvis' urgent voice suddenly spoke, startling all of them.

"_I... don't want to stay here. I don't want to be here in this...place. I don't belong in the User world. Just...send me back. Please. Can you send me back?"_

Jarvis' face was nervous, urgent, eyes imploring. His gaze traveled warily to Clu, then to Tron, and then back to Kevin.

Kevin just looked back at him incredulously and shook his head.

"_You-...you just got here, man. What was your plan, anyway? Because, I mean, hey, you did it,...ya' got to the User world. You've seen, what...like, maybe a hundred square feet of it, for like, five minutes,...and now you wanna' go back to the Grid?"_

Jarvis just shifted nervously and looked at him, nodding very slightly. Kevin shook his head again, and sighed. This absolutely made no sense at all. Though he couldn't exactly say he wasn't relieved.

"_Okay,...look. Don't get me wrong, I'm fine with sending you back if that's really what you want. I don't think we can handle another program-turned-User right now anyway. But,...the system is resetting. It may not work if I try to send you back. And who knows what the Grid is even like now."_

But Jarvis still just looked at him, his expression unchanged.

Just then Sam finally spoke, having been silent up until this point. _"The laser isn't connected anymore."_

Kevin shrugged. _"Yeah, that's an easy fix though. But, with what it was doing before,...just spontaneously auto-digitizing...then,..."_ he paused, brows furrowing, _"...well, there's a good chance a system reset might've corrected that."_

Alan raised his eyebrows._ "And if it didn't?"_

Kevin shrugged._ "We'll work around it."_

Alan's eyes grew wide._ "You're not serious?"_

Kevin's brows hiked upward and he exhaled, mouth falling open for a second as he looked at Alan.

"_Well,... yeah, I'm serious, Alan! You heard him. He doesn't wanna' stay here. What, like we're gonna' hold him hostage?...keep him in a big terrarium or something? No, man. We can't force him to stay here. Let him go back to the Grid again, if that's what he wants."_

Alan frowned at him, his voice adamant.

"_Well, what I want...is for YOU to not go back to the Grid again, Flynn! And I think your son agrees! And if you can't even sit in that chair without that happening when the laser's connected, then that's kind of problematic! Besides,... it's not even your Grid anymore! Do I really need to tell you how dangerous this is?"_

Kevin drew in a deep breath then exhaled slowly, giving a small wry grin to assuage his friend's concern.

"_Alan, I told you,...we'll work around it. Oh ye of little faith."_

"_Oh where have I heard that before." _Alan just stared at him for a moment, then shook his head and rolled his eyes, swearing silently and resting his hands on his hips.

Just then, words flashed to life on the display screen at the interface desk, and Jarvis immediately flinched and looked over, which of course garnered Kevin's attention. He walked closer, looking at the words which were typing themselves onscreen.

SYSTEM RESET COMPLETE...

TOTAL %DATA CLUSTERS RESTORED = 98.78  
>TOTAL % BAD ALLOCATION UNITS DISCARDED = 01.12<p>

INDEXING...

ASSESSING SYSTEM FUNCTIONALITY ...22%

He waited while the percentage slowly climbed ever closer to 100%

SYSTEM FUNCTIONALITY = GOOD  
>VALUES = SET<br>STATUS = READY

INITIALIZE AUXILIARY / SET APERTURE - Y OR N?_

Kevin sighed with relief at the cursor which blinked, waiting for a standard answer. That was just about the only standard thing which had happened thus far.  
>After a moment, he looked over at Sam, and nodded. Sam hesitated, then finally shook his head, walking back around the laser towards the power cables.<p>

"_Dad,... I hope you know what you're doing."_

"_Trust me kiddo."_ Kevin called after Sam, then glanced over at Alan, raising an eyebrow. _"You too."_

Alan sighed, and turned back to the stairwell, leaning against the corner edge of the wall.

Kevin walked over to the chair where Jarvis sat. _"And you,...if this is what you really want, then fine, you're going back to your home. BUT..."_ he paused, looking at the newly-human program who stared back at him wordlessly.

"_But...you need to realize I have no idea what we're sending you back to. You also need to realize that if this works, then, it's kinda like me giving you a second chance...so, maybe you could bring yourself to change your opinion of Users from now on? Think you might cut us some slack?"_

Jarvis was silent a moment, then nodded, something in his eyes registering remorse, gratitude. He seemed sincere, but still Kevin looked at him suspiciously for several long moments, then finally stepped back out of the way as Sam crawled under the computer desk to reconnect the laser cables.

"_Dad?..."_ Sam's muffled voice came from under the far end of the desk. _"Should we leave the router connected?"_

Kevin thought for a moment, then glanced at Alan, who shrugged and shook his head. It really seemed to be a toss-up at this point. Then Kevin leaned back down to the edge of the table. _"Yeah. Might as well leave it. At least until we get a better handle on what Junior's up to." _

A few seconds later Sam crawled out from under the desk again, brushing dust from his jeans as he stood up and walked to stand beside Alan and Clu.

Kevin looked at Jarvis again. _"You sure this is what you want?" _

"_Yes."_ Jarvis answered immediately. He would never divulge it, but he had no use for this User world now that the Grid was reset. There on the Grid he might have a chance to make something of himself and determine his own fate...whereas here he clearly was at the behest of Users, which he secretly held in disdain just as much as ever. But it certainly wasn't in his best interests to express that, which was why he simply sighed, and nodded again, appearing anxious. _"Yes, I'm sure."_

Kevin gave a nod. _"Alright. Then, stand up,..." _As Jarvis slowly stood with wary eyes, Kevin moved the chair out of the way, and pointed to the small spot on the floor where an old, half-worn "x" was taped. _"Stand right here."_

Jarvis did as he was told. Kevin looked at Tron, and with a sideways tilt of his head he motioned back towards the stairwell. Tron stepped away, joining Alan, Sam and Clu.

Kevin looked back at Jarvis one more time, and then reaching over to the interface keypad, he typed, "Y". Then he bounded out of the way towards the stairwell, jumping over to stand next to Alan who was still giving him the disapproving smirk.  
>The laser began initializing, the lights on its housing flashing through the start-up sequence.<br>A series of settings and values scrolled onto the interface display screen.  
>The matrix value setup menu appeared onscreen, and the initializing sequence indicator scrolled through its percentage countdown.<p>

And then nothing happened.

From across the small room, Kevin blinked, squinting and staring at the display.  
>Given what Sam had told him, this was the point at which he'd been automatically digitized into the Grid, and it was how Alan had unwittingly been digitized too, yet now the laser was once again functioning as it was supposed to, just as it always had before, all those years ago. The system was waiting for a password and would then require a "Y" or "N" to engage the aperture command.<br>Which meant he would have to step over to the display and type it, then start the process and jump back out of the way. Theoretically he'd have at least two or three seconds to do that without being in danger of digitization, but, as they'd so far seen quite well-illustrated lately, things weren't always going exactly as they should.

After another second's hesitation, Kevin sighed.  
>Might as well just do it. It was smarter than talking Jarvis through the process and giving him the password, in the event Jarvis got to the Grid and decided to buddy up with Dillinger and then spilled all the secrets he could about Flynn's system, assuming there was still some knowledge in the known universe to which Dillinger hadn't made himself privy anyway. Despite his promise to cut the Users some slack, Kevin reasoned they had no reason to trust Jarvis any father than they could throw him at this point.<p>

Bracing himself and taking a deep breath, Kevin stepped towards the chair, which elicited a tense hiss from Alan as he drew his own breath in sharply and then whispered angrily. _"Flynn! Get back here!"_

Kevin gave him a look, sincerely hoping that he wasn't about to be alight with a zillion tiny particles of laser energy while doing so. He leaned over the keypad, typed the password, gave the system clearance, and then the final go-ahead was as simple as typing "Y" again. He did, and then literally lurched across the floor towards Alan, who reached out and grabbed him at the same time Sam did, both of them pulling him into the stairwell just as the brilliant beam of light shot forth from the laser, freezing Jarvis in place.

Kevin caught his balance stood there staring, shielding his eyes partially as the laser scanned section after section of the escaped program's form, converting it to code and then dissipating it into thin air.  
>This was what had happened to him so many times, and yet he'd never seen another go through it. He had to admit, it was as frightening as it was amazing.<p>

A few seconds later, Jarvis had disappeared, the beam extinguished, and on the display screen read two simple and familiar lines of text.

100% COMPLETE

SCAN ACCEPTED**_**

Sam, Alan and Kevin all exhaled a sigh at nearly the same time. A second later, Sam was inching his way back behind the laser to unplug it, just in case.

Clu sighed and sat down on the bottom step. Tron patted him lightly on the shoulder, then leaned against the door facing. Both former programs were silent. There wasn't much Tron could say. He understood Clu's anger at Jarvis, and he also understood Clu's anger at himself. The Abraxas virus had, after all, been his own fault originally.

After several moments more of silence in the room, Alan looked at his watch and then gave a wry smirk.

"_Well,...that was exhilarating. Now assuming no one else plans to pop in from the Grid,...I thought I might breeze by the office and get to my meeting. You going to be alright here for a couple of hours?"_

Kevin nodded. _"Yeah, man,...we'll be fine. I'm gonna do system checks, then maybe get this place cleaned up some. Hopefully we'll be free of any more Grid drop-ins. I doubt Dillinger's gonna' repopulate the planet with programs...at least, not today."  
><em>

Alan sighed, giving a nod to Kevin and Sam. _"Well,...call me if you need me, or if anything else happens, alright?"_

Sam was edging back around the laser to stand next to Kevin. _"Yeah don't worry. We will."  
><em>

And with that, Alan nodded, turned and headed up the stairs. By the time he got to his car, he'd already decided to reschedule the meeting. He had more pressing matters to attend to, assuming he could get back to the office quickly enough.

* * *

><p>The Grid<br>: : : : : : : :

Ed Dillinger Jr. stood in the street, watching as his newly-created codified likeness utility walked a few steps away, turned back to look at him, then with a running start 'rezzed the lightcycle, zooming off towards the arena as directed.  
>So this must have been how Kevin Flynn had felt, being a Creator. It made Junior proud to see how well the program had taken his instruction, and it was somewhat of an ego-boost to see the exact duplicate of himself who would now be in command of the entire city.<p>

He watched as the cycle's light-ribbon disappeared in the distance, then turned back towards the arcade simulation, just in time to see a flash of movement, as the sentry he'd summoned to stand guard flew in to action, swinging the light staff and instantly derezzing the program who was just emerging from the arcade simulation door.

One shower of luminous pixels, and it was all over.  
>The sentry stepped back, and stood waiting as he approached.<p>

"_Good work. Now do the same thing to any more who decide to enter the Grid. Except, of course, me."  
><em>

The sentry simply nodded at the orders, and stepped back to his position beside the door of the arcade simulation.

Junior sighed, and walked slowly towards the waiting Recognizer. This wouldn't be nearly as expedient as taking a light-jet to the portal, but he'd enjoy the nice leisurely ride. And now, thankfully, because of Jarvis' unexpected but serendipitous return there was a portal once again, which would save him the trouble of having to contact his father and grovel for a portal reset, and which meant they wouldn't have to again discuss the program's bizarre escape from the Grid, since the matter was now taken care of.

The Recognizer tractored him aboard, and then turning to the sentry who remained on the craft, he nodded.

"_To the portal."_

Bracing himself for the ride, Junior smiled softly to himself, as the Recognizer began to ascend into the sky. At least this part of the plan was going well.


	24. Chapter 24

_two days later..._

* * *

><p>Los Angeles<br>Santa Monica Third Street Promenade  
>: : : : : : : : : :<p>

As the sun dipped below the western horizon and night encroached, the promenade plaza was once more aglow with the usual festive blend of seasonal decorations in observance of Christmas, Hanukkah and Kwanzaa. Trees and lamp-posts twinkled with tiny electric lights against the night sky, and a steady stream of slow-moving tail-lights and headlights lined both sides of Santa Monica Boulevard. The sidewalks were teeming with scores of locals and tourists, and in the center plaza of the promenade several groups of street performers and musicians had crowds gathered around them. Delightful aromas drifted from the bistros, cart vendors peddled confections and all manner of gifts, and everywhere one looked there were people passing to and fro with their various shopping bags.

In the midst of it all, Kevin felt as though he and Sam had landed on the set of a futuristic holiday version of a Fellini movie. The only things missing were jugglers, and he was fairly sure there were probably some due to arrive any moment to join the other street performers.

It wasn't just that over twenty years had passed since he'd seen the place, or anything resembling holiday spirit for that matter. What really struck him as surreal was how absolutely everything had changed. The stores, the trends, menus on the restaurant sandwich-boards, nothing of it resembled anything even vaguely familiar. From the fashions on the mannequins in store windows to the clothing on the people who passed by, clearly this was not the late eighties anymore. One woman jogged past them with small white wires which led to her ears, and the wires led to a thin hand-held device which was tinier than Sam's already-tiny cell phone. As she jogged in place waiting to cross the street, Kevin eyed the small rectangular device in her hand, then looked over at Sam and spoke in a low voice.

"_Guess headphones and a Walkman are antiques now, huh."_

"_Yeah, Pretty much."_ Sam chuckled softly, grinning and looking down at his feet. He leaned close to Kevin and spoke quietly.

"_That's an iPod. Apple Computers. MP3 player, digital music files."_

"_Ah."_ Kevin nodded his head once, resting his hands in his pockets and rocking back onto his heels. Then he smirked.

_"Yep. MPEG audio coding. Eureka project was just getting rolling back in the late 80's,... back around the time I... left..." _

Kevin's impending wistful trip down techno-memory lane was interrupted abruptly, as a pre-teen boy on a skateboard whisked past them and sailed right into the crosswalk just as the 'walk' signal illuminated. Kevin frowned slightly, noting the boy's attire. He raised an eyebrow and nodded up ahead as the boy rolled from crosswalk to sidewalk, then he turned his head to Sam.

"_...'that normal these days?"_

"_What, skateboards? ... Oh yeah, they're everywhere."_ Sam nodded, shuffling along, recalling with a smirk the many times he and Alan had butted heads over the issue of skateboards and streets when he was a young pre-teen.

"_No,...the pants thing."_

Kevin nodded again, glancing at the boy, who's baggy jeans were belted quite tightly just below his hind-quarters easily revealing most of the boy's undershorts.

Sam spluttered, trying not to laugh. _"It's...a style. Has been for years. You know those rebellious things kids do."_

Kevin chuckled, grinning wryly. _"Mm-hm. But,...'dunno if I'd call it a style."_

They'd made it a few steps into the next stretch of plaza, when Sam stopped in front of a store, and nodded at the entrance.

"_Here's the place I was tellin' you about. Figured it might be right down your alley."_

Kevin glanced up, brows raising as he noted the Zen rock garden in the front window display. One of the male mannequins was wearing a kimono and pants ensemble which wasn't too different from the one he'd worn on the Grid.

"_Yeah, you guessed right, kiddo."_ He grinned and nodded slowly, then he shrugged. _"Wouldn't mind stopping to take a look in here."_

"_Take a look? No, we're not lookin', we're buyin'..."_ Sam shrugged. _"It's your birthday. You need some new stuff to wear." _

Kevin nodded. _"Yeah, guess I do. Nothin' wrong with most of the stuff I have though. Some of it's just a little snug, maybe a couple of things are outdated."_

"_A couple. Right, Dad."_ Sam rolled his eyes and chuckled as he opened the sleek modern glass door.

: : : : : :

About an hour later, they emerged from the store with two large shopping bags. The sales clerk gave a smile and a soft wave goodbye as they walked past the front windows. Sam grinned as they continued up the sidewalk _"You made her day."_

Kevin chuckled. _"Yeah. Think I freaked her out a little, when I said it fits much more comfortably without a disk on the back."_

Sam gave a small shrug and laughed. _"That did seem a little odd. But they get all sorts of eccentric types, I'm sure."_

"_Eccentric. Guess that's me..."_ Kevin chuckled to himself, _"...used to be rebellious. Not sure I'm up for the whole 'pants-hanging-off-the-rear' thing though. Think I may be a little too old for that."_

As they rounded the corner and started down the alleyway towards the parking garage, Sam grinned over at his father. _"Oh you're still rebellious. It's just understated."_

Kevin chuckled again, the corners of his mouth hitching into a grin. _"You know it, kiddo." _

* * *

><p>Los Angeles<br>Alan Bradley's Residence  
>: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :<em><br>_

Quorra paced back and forth slowly, stopping again to glance at the clock above the oven. Just then, Alan walked into the kitchen, and she sighed, looking over at him before resuming her pacing.

"_Time passes much more slowly here than on the Grid."_

Crossing to the cabinet, the programmer sighed, gathering plates one by one. _"I haven't noticed that. It seems to fly plenty fast enough for me. Too fast."_

Quorra crossed her arms, her eyes wide and completely serious. _"Not fast enough for me. It said to wait thirty three minutes. That's an eternity."_

Alan smiled, glancing over at the lighted oven window. _"The timer will sound when it's ready, Quorra. You don't have to stand and wait."_

She resumed pacing. _"I want to. I want to see what it looks like when it turns into a cake."_

Alan gave a wry smile as he crossed to the table and set the plates down, then went across to the drawer to gather silverware. Just then Clu rounded the corner from the living room and stopped, eying the plates, then looking up at Alan.

_"Would you like me to arrange the table?" _

"_I sure would. Thank you, Clu."_ Alan was counting out forks and knives, and he walked over to hand them to Clu. _"You remember how these go?"_

Clu nodded, foregoing the temptation to inform Alan that setting a table was a rather rudimentary task and wasn't at all tough to recall once learned. Instead he decided on a slight smirky grin.

_"Of course I do." _

Alan raised an eyebrow, not missing the intent behind the smirky grin. _"Good. After that you can help me with something a little more complicated,...and, fun..."_

Pausing, he reached under the cabinet, retrieving a rectangular box, and placed it on the counter. _"...wrapping this. Before Kevin and Sam get back."_

Clu's eyes narrowed as he looked first at the box and then at Alan. _"Wrapping?"_

Alan nodded._ "Yes. One of those things we do in the user world. We put gifts in boxes, and then wrap them in decorative paper, to surprise the recipient. Which reminds me, I have no idea where I put the wrapping paper. I'll be right back." _

Clu watched as Alan disappeared down the hallway, and then he resumed setting the table. A few moments later, he'd completed that task, and added water glasses to the table's ensemble, which he thought was rather nice initiative. Then he walked over to stand beside the counter. Quorra still hadn't acknowledged his presence, and instead simply stood in front of the device the Users called 'the oven', staring through the transparent window at the cake pan which was housed within.

As interesting as it was to think that soon a solid cake would emerge from the oven having gone into it as liquid, Clu didn't find that nearly as fascinating as the box which now sat on the counter. Just it's very presence was mystique enough, even without being wrapped in decorative paper. It practically beckoned him to go over and see what was in it. But when he picked it up, it felt almost weightless. And four very thin strips of some sort of transparent film secured it at each of the sides so that he couldn't lift the lid to open the box.  
>So he shook the box instead. Nothing moved. In fact, if he didn't know better, he'd say that within it was only air, but that would be an odd gift to give someone. For a long time he stood there, holding the box, hefting it's weight, then held the box to his ear, listened to it, shook it again. Infuriating. There was no sound, weight, or movement to it. No way to guess what was inside of it. Perhaps the box itself was the gift? No, that would be even sillier than gifting someone with air.<p>

Just then, Alan walked back into the kitchen and startled Clu out of his musings, so he quickly set the box back down, giving Alan a pleasant, nonchalant grin.

Placing the roll of wrapping paper on the counter, Alan raised an eyebrow suspiciously. _"What were you doing?"_

Clu's eyes widened, his brows launching upward, and he kept the innocent grin. _"Nothing."_

The older man's eyes narrowed, but Clu just stepped back, clasping his hands behind him, still grinning.

"_Uh-huh. The shakedown..." _Alan relied with another lift of his brow, opening a drawer and rummaging around, "...s_haking the box is one of the oldest tricks in the book. I know that because my son Jet invented all of them."_

A second later he'd located the scissors and cellophane tape, placing them onto the counter and closing the drawer. Leaning with one hand on the counter, he eyed Clu with a tight-lipped smirky grin.

"_You can shake that box around all you want. It won't help you. You're not going to guess what's in there."_

Clu lifted his chin, not even wanting to admit he was curious. Instead he opted for a mild battle of wills, not realizing he was playing against the master of such.

_"You're probably right. So why don't you just tell me?"_

Alan unrolled a length of the wrapping paper and spread it flat on the counter, his own brows raising imperiously as he gave Clu a sideways glance, trying not to grin.

_"Because. We're on a need-to-know basis here,...and, you don't need to know."_

A frown furrowed Clu's brow, and his voice was agitated. _"Why not?"_

Setting the box down in the center of the unrolled gift-wrap, Alan glanced at his watch, then looked directly at Clu and sighed. The ever-so-slight narrowing of his eyes and the hint of a confident smile were the only expressions which crossed his face, and his voice had the same low, smooth tone which had delivered many an unwavering bottom-line to even the toughest board-room and media gatherings over the years.

"_Clu. This isn't the Grid. You aren't always going to be privy to all the details of every single thing which exists. And you'll find that interrogating me,... about anything,... is going to get you nothing but frustration. Some things just aren't your business, and this is one of them. It's Kevin's gift, not yours. When he opens it, then you can find out what it is."_

And then Alan gave a tight-lipped grin, his head tilting slightly as though he were about to conclude with, 'thank you, and have a nice day.'  
>Instead he said, <em>"However...if you would like the experience of wrapping a gift, and contributing to this birthday festivity, this one's all yours to wrap. Would you like for me to show you how?"<em>

Clu's own eyes narrowed, as he sulked inwardly. Then he looked at the box. _"No. I can figure it out."_

Alan gave a smirk, nodding as he picked up the tape dispenser, detaching a small piece as a demonstration, and holding it up between his thumb and forefinger.

_"Okay. But allow me to give you a hint...this tape dispenser's temperamental. But, thankfully once you've got the corners folded as you want them, you won't need much tape to hold them in place. Just a small piece here and there will do. Have fun."_

Raising his brows lightheartedly, Alan stuck the small piece of tape to Clu's shoulder, then walked off.

Clu watched him walk away, then frowned, removing the tape from his shoulder with a slight frown and a smirk, grumbling as he stuck it to the counter.

_"He's just being stubborn for no reason."_

Quorra turned to regard him with a cool expression. After a few seconds, she spoke with a shrug, her face emotionless as she returned her gaze to the window on the oven.

_"So are you."_

Clu's eyes narrowed a bit as he looked at her. He couldn't really argue, because she was right, but that wasn't the point. He wasn't at all certain what the point was, other than he felt irked, and so he sighed, returning his attention to the gift-wrapping endeavor. At least this was an easy task which would take his mind off of feeling irked. Simple plane-mapping applied to a rectangular cubic volumetric structure. This he could do with his eyes closed.

Within a few seconds he'd visually calculated the minimum amount of flat paper and tape required to efficiently cover the box, used the scissors to excise that amount of paper from the roll, and detached six small segments of tape, sticking one end of each segment to the edge of the counter. Less than thirty seconds later, the box was neatly covered in the paper, and he was securing the last of the folds with the small pieces of tape. He moved the neatly wrapped gift to the center of the counter, stepped back, clasped his hands behind him, and strolled slowly around the center aisle of the large kitchen, walking quietly over to where Quorra stood.

The former ISO seemed completely absorbed in thought as she stared at the cake through the window of the lighted oven, and she didn't appear to even notice his approach, nor did she move when he stood right behind her, peering over her shoulder at the cake. He mused quietly at the sight...the formerly-liquid cake batter had now transformed into a solid surface which had risen to the edges of the pan and was turning a golden brown color. It smelled wonderful, indescribable. Along with the steady heat emanating from the metal oven door, he found this altogether very comforting. He took a deep breath, inhaling the aroma, and then slowly exhaling.

Feeling his breath brush past her face, Quorra jumped, startled.  
>She whirled quickly around, only to find herself bumping right into Clu's chest and then stumbling a step back, almost falling against the oven door. He quickly caught her by the arms, gently steadying her. Still not letting go of her arms, he gestured at the oven door with a quick glance, then simply looked at her with the hint of a bemused grin on his face.<p>

_"Careful. That's probably hot." _

"_Probably."_ Quorra's expression remained droll, and she just stared at him but made no attempt to move. Instead she looked down at her upper arms, first one and then the other, until Clu removed his hands from her and returned them to his sides. Then she looked back up at him, her eyes narrowing and her voice cold.

"_Why do you keep doing that?"_

"_Doing what?"_ His brows raised slightly, but he didn't lose the hint of a grin.

Her eyes narrowed even more, and she chewed on the inside of her jaw before she finally spoke.

"_Sneaking up on me, and standing right behind me."_

Clu's head tilted slightly, and he clasped his hands behind his back again, the grin still teasing at the corners of his mouth.

_"I didn't sneak up on you. I thought you knew I was there."_

"_No. Obviously I didn't."_ She matched the slight tilt of his head, but in the opposite direction, and then spoke with mild irritation, her face still expressionless.

_" Stop it. It bothers me."_

Clu's brows lifted slightly, and he simply grinned.

_"Okay."_ Then he paused, this time adding the raise of one brow to the tilt of his head. _"Why?"_

Quorra sighed, and was about to decide whether to simply walk away from him or to give him the full scathing answer as to just why it bothered her, when suddenly the timer on the oven began to make a loud, repetitive beeping sound. Her eyes widened and she brushed past Clu excitedly, rounding the corner to the hallway.

"_Alan?..." _she called out anxiously. Hearing no reply, she was about to call out to him again when he walked into the kitchen from the living room doorway.

"_Yep,...that'd be the timer."_

Alan reached into the drawer next to the stove and retrieved two oven mitts, putting his hands in them. Clu stepped back and walked to lean against the opposite counter, crossing his arms and watching as Quorra followed Alan over to the oven.

Alan was opening the oven door, and reaching to slide the oven rack forward. _"Careful. This is hot."_

Quorra nodded, deliberately ignoring Clu who was watching her with a smirky grin from across the kitchen. Removing one of the oven mitts, Alan reached to the drawer and fished out a small box of toothpicks, then took one and stuck it into the center of the cake. Quorra's eyes went huge, and her voice was alarmed.

_"No!...What are you doing to the cake?"_

Alan simply grinned, drawing the toothpick out again, then holding it up and squinting as he inspected it.

_"Only testing the center, to see if it's baked fully through. If there's any liquid batter on the stick, it needs more time. But, we're in luck. It's ready."_

Quorra looked at him, her expression shifting from alarm to wonder. _"That is very clever! How did you know to do that?"_

Alan was donning the oven mitts again, and lifting a wire cooling rack from the overhead cabinet. He set the cooling rack on the counter, and gave a wry smirk as he reached for the cake pan.

"_Oh,...watched a few cooking shows in my day."_

Quorra observed as he transferred the cake pan to the cooling rack, and leaned over to smell the wonderful aroma of freshly-baked cake which drifted up from the counter.

_"I want to learn to make cakes too. And all sorts of things."_

"_I'm sure you will. I only know a few of the basics, but, I get by I suppose." _Alan smiled, reaching into the cabinet and retrieving a large rectangular platter, then putting on the oven mitts again.

From across the room, Clu was watching curiously. He stepped closer, trying to see what Alan was doing, and Quorra's eyes darted towards him, then returned to watch Alan as he placed the platter on top of the cake pan and held it into place at the sides. Then after a second's hesitation, he inverted platter and pan, setting the platter down onto the rack with the pan now as a lid.

Quorra looked at him with a bizarre expression, which quickly turned to a look of happy surprise when he lifted the empty cake pan to reveal a rectangular cake which now sat neatly transferred onto the platter. She couldn't help it...she clapped her hands and smiled.

"_That's amazing! Oh it's just beautiful!"_

Alan gave her a bemused look, chuckling._ "Wait'll we put the icing on it. It'll be fun to surprise Flynn. We have to let it cool first though."_

Clu had moved closer, admiring the cake as well. Alan glanced at him, then at Quorra, his eyes narrowing.

"_I'm going to leave this here. I have every confidence that the two of you will absolutely not touch this, and will let this sit here and cool undisturbed. Am I right?"_

Quorra nodded enthusiastically. Clu just grinned, tucking his chin slightly in a nod. Raising an eyebrow, Alan looked at them both again, nodded once, and then walked off to the living room. Quorra stood still admiring the cake. Clu moved a few steps closer, and then stopped and cleared his throat. When she looked at him, he raised both his arms in mock surrender, and grinned.

"_This is me not sneaking up behind you. I'm walking over to look at the cake." _

Quorra shot him a look, and then he moved to stand beside her, staring down at the perfectly formed rectangular cake. He shook his head, and crooned with a grin.

_"Well,...I have to admit...Users are very skilled. This is impressive."_

Just then, the sound of the door opening startled them both, and they turned around to see Sam walking in the door. Right behind him was Kevin. Quorra and Clu looked at each other in mild panic, then they backed up against the counter, Quorra reluctantly scooting up next to Clu to stand shoulder to shoulder with him, in order to obscure the view of the cake which was supposed to be a surprise.

"_Wow...hey, somethin' smells fantastic!"_

Kevin smiled, setting down the shopping bags. Glancing across the kitchen, he saw Quorra and Clu, both of them with standing side by side like Siamese twins who were joined at the shoulders, each of them with brows raised and awkward grins on their faces.

Kevin looked at them, then grinned and frowned at the same time. _"...'kay...which one o' you ate the canary."_

Quorra and Clu looked back at him, puzzled. Then Quorra blurted out nervously. _"We didn't eat anything. We're...just-"_

Clu interrupted, attempting to be smooth and failing miserably at it. _"We were standing here, waiting for you to get back."_

Kevin raised an eyebrow, looking at them suspiciously. He sniffed the air, inhaling the aroma of freshly baked cake. Just then, Alan rounded the corner from the living room, and Kevin grinned at his old friend.

"_Alan, you devil. Made me a cake, didn't ya'?"_

Alan looked over at Quorra and Clu with a smirk and a frown. _"Hello? You told him? It was supposed to be a surprise."_

"_No, man, it smells like a bakery in here."_ Kevin laughed, hiking a thumb towards Clu and Quorra. _"Plus, those two, with the faces,...and,... you know, it is my birthday. So, call it a lucky guess."_

Alan smirked again.

_"Well, I was hoping to surprise you. But, since that's apparently nearly impossible to do anyway,...then,... you'll just have to be surprised when you see how we decorate it."_

Kevin laughed, walking over to put an arm around Alan. _"Thank you, man,...haven't had real cake in twenty-one years."_

"_We're going to have ice cream too!"_ Quorra blurted out enthusiastically. Alan rolled his eyes and sighed, then chuckled, crossing his arms and nodding.

: : : : : :

Two hours later, they all sat around the dinner table. Given the choice of all the things they could've had for dinner, Kevin had suddenly decided he was craving Chinese food, so they'd ordered delivery. After the meal, they all sat sipping green tea which Kevin had made.

After a few moments of quiet, Alan looked around the table, then looked at Quorra. _"So,... are we ready for cake and ice cream?" _

Quorra smiled and nodded enthusiastically, jumping up from her chair. Sam stood up too, grinning.

"_I'll help with that."_ Then he and Quorra disappeared around the corner into the hallway.

Setting down his cup, Kevin watched them with a curious expression and a grin, but then Alan spoke, distracting him. _"There's a present for you."_

Kevin's eyebrows raised, and he smiled. _"No, you didn't have to do that..." _

But his voice trailed off as Alan stood up, reached into the cabinet, and retrieved the gift-wrapped box, placing it down on the table beside Kevin and then taking his seat again.

Kevin looked at the neatly-wrapped box, and grinned.

_"Aw, man,...didn't have to do this. Don't you know, just being here,... with all of you,...that's enough of a present?"_

Clu nodded towards the gift with a proud grin._ "I wrapped it."_

Kevin's brows raised, and he smiled as he looked at the box. Then he looked at Clu, still grinning. _"Nice job, Clu." _

Just then, Sam and Quorra slowly rounded the corner from the hallway. With a glance at Alan, Sam started singing 'Happy Birthday', Alan joined in, and Clu and Tron timidly tried humming along, which made Kevin's grin turn to a full smile as he sat back in his chair.

Quorra carried the platter with the cake, on top of which were two lit number candles, a five and a three. Kevin smiled as they set the cake down on the table, and then he grinned ear to ear...on top of the white cream-cheese icing, were the words "Happy Birthday Kevin" and below that was a very simple drawing of a blue lightcycle, all written and drawn with blue icing. All the way around three sides of the cake were a myriad of zero's and ones in the same blue icing.

When they'd finished singing, Kevin closed his eyes, still smiling, and then blew out the candles. He looked at the cake, then looked at Sam, Quorra, Clu, Tron and Alan, beaming and nodding his head.

"_Now this is what I call radical. Man, beautiful cake!..."_

Tron grinned proudly, and pointed at the zeros and ones which ran all along the sides of the cake. Then he spoke in a shy voice.

"_It says, 'welcome home Kevin',...in binary. I did that part." _

Quorra pointed at the lightcycle, also grinning proudly. _"I did that." _

Alan shrugged. _"I put the basic icing on. With Clu's help."_

Sam chuckled, nodding his head. _"Candles. Did those. Figured it was less of a fire-hazard than fifty three single ones."_

"_Man, just-...this is just-..."_ Kevin's voice trailed off, and he sat smiling proudly, just looking at the cake for several seconds.

"_Hey, you still haven't opened your present."_ Alan quipped, glancing at the gift-wrapped box which still sat on the table.

Kevin picked up the box, shook it, then finally tore into the gift-wrap and box, still smirking.

_"Alright, but, I'm tellin' you,...you didn't have to do this,... and-"_

He stopped when he saw what was taped inside the cover of the box. Printed on a glossy piece of photo paper from Alan's laser printer, was a photograph of what was now his family, all gathered in the game room around the Tron machine, smiling. Alan, Tron, Clu, Quorra, Sam, and, in Sam's arms, Marvin.

Kevin's grin spread ear to ear again, and he smiled warmly, then looked up at all of them. _"Man, when'd you guys do this?"_

Sam shrugged. _"We posed for it last night, when you were out on the patio knocking on the sky. Alan printed it."_

Just then, Alan nodded his head.

_"There's more, Flynn. Look in the envelope."_

Kevin removed the envelope which was taped inside the bottom of the box. He opened it, his face growing slightly confused at first as he looked at the documents, and then the recognition hit him...this was everything he would need in order to legally establish a new identity, and to have a chance at some semblance of a normal private life while they all endeavored to solve the problem of the Grid. Looking again at the documents, he stared up at Alan, incredulous, speechless, a thousand emotions welling up in him, the foremost being gratitude.

Alan shrugged and gave a slight grin. _"It's your new identity disk."_

Kevin blinked, still shocked. All he could manage was a stunned whisper. _"H-...how'd you-...?"_ and then his voice trailed off as he stared again at the documents.

Alan shrugged again, putting his hands in his pockets and smiling. _"I have my ways." _

Kevin just shook his head, his eyes suddenly welling up with tears. Then he stood up from the chair, still slowly shaking his head as he looked at Alan and tried to speak, but the emotions choked his voice into a strangled whisper.

_"Man-...thank y-" _

He stopped trying to speak, and instead just stepped over and wrapped his arms around his old friend. Several seconds went by, both of them fighting tears and losing the battle as they hugged each other tightly. Even Sam sniffed, forcing back tears himself, as was Quorra, and even Clu and Tron seemed touched by this. Then with the usual slaps on the back, both men pulled apart from the embrace, and Kevin looked down, wiping his eyes quickly with the palms of his hands, sniffed once, and then he smiled, looking down at the birthday cake on the table and gathering his composure.  
>Finally he chuckled and clapped his hands once, then rubbed his palms together, eyes still glistening with happy tears as his grin went ear-to-ear again.<p>

"_Q,...break out the ice cream. We're eatin' this cake!"_


	25. Chapter 25

The Grid  
>Game Arena Observation Deck<p>

* * *

><p>The newly created program opened its eyes, and stared back at him. Ed Junior sat back in the chair, fingers tenting and eyes narrowing as he admired his work. The program had at first simply been an afterthought, a whim borne of his having toyed with the system templates, but now in its completion, this new addition might prove very helpful indeed, and it was far easier than creating another likeness code or a build from scratch. He had to marvel at what he saw...it really was a flawless replica, and yet with none of the previous version's glitches or memory, which of course would be quite a boon.<p>

After a few seconds of silently meeting the replicated program's neutral gaze, he spoke in a soft, almost congenial voice. "_You are Jarvis, version 1.5."_

The program looked back at him and gave a sight nod._ "__I am Jarvis, version 1.5." _

Ed Jr. continued, with a nod of his own. "_You will serve as administrative assistant to the system."_

Once more the program echoed his words._ "___I will serve as administrative assistant to the system._" _

Junior raised an eyebrow and gave a sardonic chuckle which seemed out of place with his placid smile. "_There's really no need to repeat everything I say. And, for the sake of...well,...brevity,... you will be known as simply, 'Jarvis'. _

The replica nodded in acknowledgment. And then Junior continued speaking, gesturing to the program who stood beside him, his own virtual twin.

"_This is Clu, your system administrator. His job is to oversee the functions of this city in my absence. You will address him only as 'Your Excellency'. You will take orders from him, and the both of you will take orders fr-"_

He was about to conclude with "from me", but just then a deep electronic voice interrupted him, the sound seeming to emanate from the simulated walls themselves.

_"From me. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Master Control."_

Junior drew in a slow breath. He had to fight to keep from rolling his eyes during what was less of an introduction and more of a reminder of his father's seniority and omniscience. While the Master Control Program's voice resonated, the new Jarvis looked all around the mezzanine, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound.  
>Though he couldn't see the being who was addressing him, he understood that it was a superior, and he calculated that the proper response would most likely be, <em>'Yes, Your Excellency'<em>,... but then just as he'd been about to utter the words the voice spoke again.

"_You needn't waste my time with superlatives. Flattery isn't going to get you anywhere. When you have the occasion to address me, 'Master Control' will be sufficient."_

The Jarvis replica stood with a confused expression, taken aback that the voice seemed to respond to his unspoken thoughts. Then he continued to look all around the room, and the deep voice answered again.

"_Looking for me is pointless. I do not exist in dimensional form. I exist in every part and sector of this system, every miniscule bit and byte. I am this system now." _

Jarvis hesitated a moment, processing this information, and then he simply nodded, his expression bland.

Eying the newly re-created Jarvis, Junior was pleased to see that none of the predecessor's pained attitudes seemed to be present in the new model. After a pause, he stood up, waving a hand dramatically and gesturing towards the chair, as he looked at his Codified Likeness Utility with a slight bow and a sardonic smirk.

"_By all means, have a seat. The two of you have work to do. The games must go on."_

The new Clu took a seat in the chair. Ed Jr. looked once more at his likeness, then turned to stride across the mezzanine towards the elevators. After a few steps, he stopped, and called back over his shoulder.

"_I'll be off Grid. I'll be monitoring you from there."_

And with that, Junior started forward again towards the elevators.  
>He'd just begun descending to the plaza level, when the familiar deep voice resounded all around him in the elevator, and the digital readout panel sprung to life with the line-by-line transcript of Master Control's words.<p>

_YOU'VE INSTALLED THE UPDATES TO FLYNN'S SYSTEM.

Junior nodded, though of course there was no one to nod at, at least not overtly.

"_Yes, I have. Most of them. However, it appears Flynn has taken the digitizing laser offline. So I couldn't update the parameters there."_

_THAT ISN'T SURPRISING. I TOLD YOU NOT TO UNDERESTIMATE HIM.

_BUT IT'S OF LITTLE CONSEQUENCE. I'VE ALREADY CORRECTED THAT SITUATION MYSELF.

Junior gave a small sigh, but didn't reply. The car had reached it's plaza-level destination and the doors slid open, but he knew better than to dismiss himself...it was always best to wait until the senior Dillinger chose to end the conversation, which, given his father's terse nature, would probably happen in fairly short order. And of course, it did.

_YOUR WORK HERE ON THE GRID IS DONE. GET BACK TO ENCOM. END OF LINE.

With that, the voice was silent, and the digital readout returned to its primary state, it's illumined display letters registering the elevator's docked position at the plaza level.

Exhaling another sigh, Ed Jr. stepped out of the elevator onto deserted arena plaza, still ruminating on his father's abrupt orders and dismissal..._your work here on the Grid is done...get back to Encom. _  
>He mused darkly. By his own reckoning, his work on the Grid had only just begun, but that was a point of contention about which there would be plenty of time for them to argue at a later date.<br>For now, of course he'd go back to Encom...he'd have to - it was after all his endpoint from the Grid, but considering the time-coefficient it was likely close to ten o'clock at night in Los Angeles. He had no need to stay at the office, and no intention of doing so. Instead he would clear up a few things on his office computer, then go home, relax, and celebrate his endeavors as a Creator on the Grid as well as the success of his new programs. The thought of that quickened his pace, and a satisfied smile crept across his features. Striding briskly through the arena exit, he dislodged the light baton from his side-holster, anticipating his transit to the portal.

* * *

><p>Los Angeles<br>Encom Tower  
>: : : : : : : : : : : :<p>

Alan Bradley walked down the empty second floor hallway, hands in his pockets, jaw set and brow furrowed in frustration.

He glanced at his watch. 9:42 PM.  
>He'd been at the office for four hours, well past when the workday had officially ended.<br>He'd walked the halls, checked all the programmers' labs, the board room, the mainframe room, and the staff lounge. He'd checked the parking garage – twice - and Ed Dillinger Junior's car was still there. Then he'd stationed himself at the second floor receptionist's desk for two solid hours, updating various software on the network system, all the while keeping an eye on the monitor's picture-in-picture feed from the hallway security camera in hopes that he'd perchance catch Junior emerging from his office.  
>No such luck. And this was getting ridiculous. Either Junior had decided to camp out inside his pitch-dark office, or else he'd gone to the Grid and maybe even gotten himself stuck there. Either way, Alan wasn't waiting another minute. He still had to go pick up Flynn at the arcade, and it was getting late.<p>

He walked more quickly down the hall, rounded the corner, and slowed when he reached the elevators, glancing over towards Dillinger Jr's office door. The small windowpane beside the door was still darkened. So either Junior really was asleep in his office - which Alan doubted - or he wasn't in his office at all.

With a sigh, the older man pressed the elevator call button, and stood for a few moments. When he glanced over again at Ed Jr's office door, he could see from the small illuminated window that his office light was now on.  
>At the sight, he gave a start, and adrenalin surged unexpectedly. For some reason he felt compelled to not be standing there waiting in plain sight. Which is why he walked quickly away from the elevators, ducked around the far corner of the adjacent hallway and stood there quietly for a few seconds, until the elevator chime dinged loudly, startling him, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Then he sighed, listening as the elevator doors slid open, and after a brief pause they slid closed again.<p>

Slowly he eased over to the corner, just enough to peek around the edge of the wall and keep an eye on Junior's office door, staying poised and ready to duck back out of the way if it opened.  
>Why he wanted to duck out of the way he wasn't quite certain, because after all he'd just spent four hours' pretending to be working late at the office just for the chance to confront Junior.<br>But instead now he was hiding in the second floor hallway. In his own office building. At almost ten o'clock at night.  
>He felt more than just a little foolish, and grumbled silently in his thoughts.<br>_...for crying out loud, Flynn,...you and your Grid...  
>...I wouldn't be doing this if it weren't for you...<br>_

But then he stopped in mid-thought, realizing that just wasn't true...this wasn't Flynn's fault. None of it was.  
>Flynn had discovered the Grid, sure, but he hadn't made Junior or his father decide to invade it, to usurp it, to twist it in the ways they had. Flynn wasn't responsible for any of that. In fact, Flynn would never have even discovered the Grid to begin with if the MCP hadn't zapped him there for snooping too close to the truth nearly three decades ago. Ed Dillinger Senior had known about the Grid long before Flynn had ever stumbled upon it.<p>

And as for the decision to stake out Junior at Encom, Alan had gotten that crazy idea himself, formulating it quietly in his thoughts as he'd driven Flynn to the arcade during his lunch hour that afternoon. It was why he'd told his old friend he'd be working late.  
>At that thought, Alan sighed, realizing now why he felt so foolish standing in the hallway peering around the corner. It wasn't because of Flynn. It wasn't even because of Junior,...though, wait, yes, actually it was, but,...moreover, it was because he himself really hadn't thought the repercussions of this through completely, until now.<br>He hadn't talked to Flynn or Sam about it, nor had he even really decided just what he'd say if he encountered Junior emerging from his office, even though every outward appearance pointed to the fact that Junior had been on the Grid.

And the more he thought about it now, this just wasn't a good idea. Even if he'd somehow been able to catch the young man 'rezzing in, even if he'd been able to see him re-materializing there before his very eyes, confronting Ed Jr. was going to be extremely tricky, because obviously there was at least one rather malevolent mind at work, meaning Ed Senior, but most likely two malevolent minds, seeing as how Junior had gone along with it. And in that case, the consequences of a haphazard or ill-planned confrontation could be potentially dire. If a confrontation were to take place farther on down the line, the Encom chairman knew he had no business going off by himself and trying to handle this like a loose cannon tonight, especially not without even talking to Flynn or Sam beforehand.  
>What he'd almost done would have been rash, and it wasn't like him. Not at all. He'd clearly let his anger at the Dillingers and his emotional attachment to Flynn override his better judgment. He sighed, suddenly thankful that at least he realized that now, instead of after he'd made the possible mistake of trying to apprehend Junior on his own. It was bad enough that he'd wasted four hours after work staking out Junior's office door, silently stewing with resentment the whole time. Which, now that he thought about it, was just rather silly. No wonder he felt foolish.<p>

That was it. He wasn't going to stand here hiding in the hallway anymore.  
>He squared his shoulders, marched right around the corner and back over to the elevators, then pressed the button. Glancing casually over to Junior's door, he saw that the office light was still on. Alan was never more grateful to hear the soft chime when the elevator car finally arrived and the doors slid open.<p>

* * *

><p>Los Angeles<br>Flynn's Arcade  
>: : : : : : : : : : :<p>

Kevin had worked all afternoon and into the early evening getting the place vacuumed and dusted. Then he'd finally settled down in the lab to spend some time poring over the system, which had turned into a three hour long troubleshooting session.

The issue had been the laser, and how to reconnect it safely without the same automatic digitizing process spawning itself as before.  
>He'd scoured every bit of the coding, and had seen no sign of any anomaly or deviation which would cause the glitch again. The programming looked exactly as it should have, and the system was once again password-dependent. After that discovery, he'd finally reconnected the laser, but he'd still jumped out of the way of it, half-expecting it to begin scanning the chair of it's own recognizance. But it hadn't. Relieved, plus feeling a bit silly, he'd then left the laser connected and had stuck the metal trash can over the barrel of it just as Sam had done before. He'd felt even more silly for doing that, but, his thinking was...worst-case, if the thing decided to start zapping again, the beam would simply hit the shiny silver aluminum of the trash can, ricochet back to the emitter and then burn itself out. At least that way he'd only be rebuilding the laser and not re-living his captivity in the Grid.<p>

And so, having reconnected the laser and insured that it couldn't zap him randomly from behind his back, he'd sat down at the interface and scoured the entire system once again, just to make absolutely certain everything was as it should be. Finally, when he'd determined that the laser's programming was indeed intact, he'd removed the trash can, pushed the chair back to it's place at the desk, and gone upstairs, realizing how very tired he was.

He'd then climbed the steps to the upstairs loft, plopping down on the couch and reckoning he could take a short nap while he waited on Alan to return from Encom.  
>But once he'd stretched out on the couch, "closing his eyes for just a few minutes" had led to his falling soundly asleep for over an hour.<br>And now a panorama of vividly familiar imagery unfolded behind his closed eyelids.

_...at first the dream seemed to be simply an unsettling replay of memory. The portal. Clu was there in front of him, walking towards him. A few meters away, Sam stood beside the portal beam, tears in his eyes and anguish in his face, holding the identity disk aloft in the light.  
>But that's when he became lucid, at least enough to realize things were different from the way they'd actually transpired.<br>First of all, Quorra wasn't there at the portal beam beside Sam. And, second, while Clu was walking towards him, slowly, haltingly as he spoke, he wasn't saying what he'd said before. His voice wasn't angry, nor was he glaring intensely. Instead, his eyes were grave, filled with emotion, and he shook his head very slightly as he searched his Creator's eyes, "Kevin, are you sure?"... and with a slight nod, he answered Clu, with his arms outstretched. He heard himself saying something in reply, something which made no sense, but his voice broke with emotion as he said it ..."Yes, Clu. It's the only choice we have now. Otherwise he wins"... and then Clu was walking toward him again, tears in his eyes and just the hint of a sad but peaceful smile on his face. As he looked back at the program who'd become to him just like another son, he returned the same sad, peaceful smile. They each gave the other a slight nod, locking eyes, and then he knew they were in agreement. They stepped towards each other, reaching to embrace. He could see sections of Clu's pixels already alight, cubic bits of code-structure already pulling themselves apart in several places, as was his own. The magnetic force between them was so strong it shook him, and the winds swirling around them were deafening. Just above the roar he could hear the faint sound of someone calling his name..._

"_Flynn?..."_

Alan's voice was soft, as he leaned over the couch, gently shaking Kevin's shoulder. _"...wake up..."_

Kevin was clearly dreaming, his breathing restless and his brow furrowed in distress as he mumbled something unintelligible. This time Alan reached and shook him by both shoulders, then spoke his name again more loudly.

_"Flynn!..." _

Though still dreaming, Kevin's eyes flew open wide, and then with one sweep he captured Alan in a tight embrace, bracing himself for the inevitable reintegration, expecting to be pulverized into a billion tiny particles of light, preparing to hear the thunderous sound which would accompany the mass destruction of the Grid.  
>Instead what he heard was Alan's surprised voice, as the older man grappled at the side of the couch in order to keep from tumbling forward.<p>

"_WHAT THE- ...FLYNN!...what are you doing!...wake up!"_

Kevin blinked, the dream dissipating quickly, and he realized he was in the arcade loft. Instead of reintegrating with Clu, he was apparently laying on the couch and holding onto Alan Bradley with both arms in a death grip. Just then he recoiled, quickly releasing Alan from his arms and looking around the dimly-lit room, still slightly disoriented and chest heaving with frantic breaths.

The older man stood up straight again, looking down at him with a peculiar frown, and straightened his glasses.  
>Kevin sat up slightly, resting his weight on his elbows, and staring up at Alan in confusion as he caught his breath. Then, blinking and slightly embarrassed, he cleared his throat and mumbled in a voice gruff from sleep.<p>

_"...uh...sorry..."_

"_No problem..." _Alan waved a hand, then crossed his arms, raising his brows as he saw the troubled, ashen look on his friend's face. _"...you alright?"_

Kevin nodded, rubbing his eyes, and then spoke, his voice still a bit hoarse.

"_Yeah,...just-...man,...weird dream..."_

Alan looked at him, brows still raised. _"Yes, I gathered that."_

Kevin sat up, placing his feet on the floor and dropping his head into his hands, raking his fingers through disheveled hair. Then he stared down at the floor, still visibly shaken.

Alan's eyes narrowed inquisitively. It unsettled him to see Kevin this way, even if it was only because of a dream. But after another moments' pause, Kevin had shaken the unsettling imagery from his mind. He raked his hair back again, and stood up slowly, stretching his arms. Then he slapped Alan on the shoulder and gave a sardonic grin as he walked past him.

"_Hi honey. Back from work already? Sorry I didn't fix dinner."_

Alan rolled his eyes, then frowned and gave a disgusted smirk. _"Funny." _

Kevin stopped halfway across the room, then yawned. _"No,... really,... I am,... 'cause I'm starving. What time is it?"_

The older man glanced at his watch. _"Ten-fifteen. I assume you're done here for the night, so why don't we get going. We can stop to grab a bite to eat on the way to the house if you're that hungry."_

Kevin shook his head. _"Nah, I'll survive. I'll grab somethin' when we get home. Let's split."_

Alan gave a half-chuckle, following him down the stairwell. _"You do realize no one says 'split' anymore, don't you?"_

Kevin waved a hand in the air as he descended the stairs. _"Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm a relic."_

Alan stopped in the tiny hallway as Kevin proceeded into the main room of the arcade. _"Don't you have to shut down the system, or... put it in stand-by?"_

Kevin shook his head, checking to make sure the Tron game machine was all the way in position against the wall, then he looked up at Alan.

_"Nope. That would affect the programs on the Grid. Just gonna' leave it be and lock up the place."_

Alan nodded, following behind Kevin as they walked to the door. It was still very surreal to think that within that small single server down in the old lab there was an entire world of beings whose lives depended on it. If he stopped to think about that for very long, it really did turn the whole view of technology, as well as the view of this world itself, completely on its ear. Not only that but it was veritable proof of Einstein's theory of relativity, and, now he knew why Kevin had been so very obsessed with writing "The Digital Frontier". It was, as Kevin would say, 'heavy stuff'.

And so, being already mentally-tired enough for one day as it was, Alan forced himself to change the subject. Reaching into his pocket for the keys to the front door, he was just about to divulge his antics staking out Junior at Encom, when he suddenly glanced over at Kevin, who was standing there with both arms splayed open, an expectant look on his face.

"_What?"_ Alan's eyebrow raised, and he looked at him.

Kevin looked around at the room full of newly-cleaned dust-covers, and then raised both his brows. "_Whaddya' mean, 'what'?... You didn't notice? Busted out the old vacuum cleaner, which still works by the way...took me about three hours,... but this place is spic and span, man!"_

Alan looked around the room, eyes widening when he saw that the machine covers were all free of dust, as was the floor.

"_Well look at this! It certainly is!"_ He looked back at Kevin, with a grin. _"Nice work! No wonder you conked out on the sofa."_

Kevin nodded, looking around again.

_"Yeah,...man, the wheels on that old shop-vac, and the hose,...it's just like wrestling with an octopus. Between that and working on the system, I'm pretty sapped. But at least now this place won't make you and Tron sneeze."_

Alan smiled. _"Oh, I think Tron's much more sensitive to dust than I am, but it sure looks a lot better in here." _He paused, glancing around again to see that Kevin had even dusted away the cobwebs from the old brick walls.

_"You know, Flynn,... we could've hired someone to do all this. You didn't have to."_

Kevin nodded. _"Yep. Kinda' wanted to, though. Used to clean this place myself all the time. It's good therapy..."_

He paused, leaning over to pick up the handle of the push-broom which was still laying on the floor. He stood back up, suddenly wincing, leaning the broom against the wall and then reaching his hands to his lower back. _"...'course, that was twenty-something years ago. Think I'm gonna knock on that spa for a while when we get home."_

Alan nodded as he put the key in the deadbolt and opened the door. _"I think you should. You deserve it."_

Then he adjusted his glasses, and gestured with a tilt of his head and a smirky grin. _"Come on,...let's split."_

Chuckling at his old friend, Kevin matched the grin, and the two men left the arcade, locking the door behind them.


	26. Chapter 26

Los Angeles  
>110 Freeway<p>

* * *

><p>Alan stifled a yawn, and then sighed, shifting in the driver's seat.<br>He glanced at the clock. 11:30 pm. Only a few more minutes and they'd be home.

Kevin hadn't said much during most of the ride back from the arcade, and when Alan looked over at him he was half expecting his friend to be sound asleep in the seat. But instead he was awake, leaning back against the head-rest, wordlessly watching the empty road ahead. For a man who usually made it difficult to get a word in edgewise, Kevin was unusually quiet, and didn't seem extraordinarily chipper either.

"_You okay?"_ Alan glanced across at him again, before returning his gaze to the freeway.

"_Hm?..."_ Kevin suddenly replied, looking over as if stirred from deep in thought. Then he nodded, brow still hitched in the remnants of a frown. _"Oh...yeah,...just...thinkin,' I guess."_

And that was all he said.  
>A couple more minutes went by, and soon Alan flipped on the turn signal, veering across toward the exit lane. As the car decelerated down the ramp, he looked over at Kevin again with a slight lift of his brows.<p>

"_You're not normally this quiet. Ever. Something bugging you?"_

Kevin sighed, shifting in the seat, and then rubbing his forehead. He didn't answer right away, and he wasn't quite sure why he felt hesitant about doing so...this was Alan Bradley, and he normally wasn't reticent to discuss anything with him. During their entire history as friends, there wasn't a thing in the world they hadn't talked about at one time or another, and even after spending twenty one years on the Grid, his having grown accustomed to little conversation and mostly inner dialogues with himself, once the two of them had been reunited again he had felt the same close bond of friendship and ease, as though no time had gone by at all.  
>Yet just now, he couldn't seem to phrase a comfortable answer to the simple question. Finally, after another pause, he drew in another long breath, and exhaled slowly.<p>

"_It's not...really something buggin' me, it's just,...well,... kinda'..."_ Pausing, he frowned and sighed again.

Alan raised a brow and smirked as he slowed to a stop at the traffic light. _"Okay. Use your words, Flynn."_

"_Yeah, guess that was a little vague..."_ Kevin shook his head, chuckling softly, then he looked down at his lap, fiddling a bit with the prayer beads around his wrist.

_"It's just... that weird dream I had. Started me thinking."_

The programmer shot him a quick glance, eyes narrowing when he saw the gravity in his friend's face. _"What on Earth did you dream about, Flynn?"_

Oddly enough, almost instantly Kevin was waving a hand dismissively. _"Ah,...'s not important...just,...the Grid...but,..." _

And then he paused, half-aware he might be trying to shield Alan from worrying, but knowing that usually when he did that it made him worry more.  
>Then Kevin realized he was trying to shield himself. The dream had carried a strangely realistic quality, and he didn't want to even think about it, much less talk about it. Instead, he changed the subject, to the co-concern which had been jangling around in his head with just as much prevalence.<p>

"_What's it gonna' take to stop him, Alan?"_

The older man shot him another look, this time with raised eyebrow. _"Who, Dillinger?"_

"_Well yeah. Who else?" _Kevin shrugged when he realized how terse that sounded.

But Alan hadn't seemed to notice his intensity. Instead he was distracted by the inordinate amount of late night traffic on the surface streets at this time of night. He spoke down the bridge of his nose, then glanced over the rim of his glasses as he wrangled the steering wheel, trying to maneuver around a stopped vehicle and into the turn lane.

"_I'm assuming that isn't a rhetorical question. In which case the answer is,... I'm not sure, Flynn."_

Alan paused, edging his way into the lane, and then resumed speaking. _"But we've talked about this before, and, it's not like we have to find the answer to this tonight. We have some time to think it through. To come up with solutions."_

Kevin heaved a sigh, staring out the window. His voice was low tinged with remorse. _"I have to **do something**, Alan. Soon. Every day he isn't apprehended he gets stronger, and,...I can't leave those Programs to just-"_

Alan interrupted him. _ "Whoa, Flynn. Whoa, whoa, whoa. What is this broken record thing you've got going, ...about how you suddenly have to save the Grid right this minute?"_

But Kevin didn't answer right away, and instead kept staring at the windshield with a slightly clenched jaw. Alan tilted his head, trying to get through to his friend.

"_Every time you start into this, it's sounding less and less healthy. You still have to put your life back together, piece by piece. The Grid shouldn't be at the forefront of your concerns right now."_

Running a hand through his hair, Kevin sighed, growing more frustrated. "_Alan I know that, but,...man, what you're not understanding is-"_

Before he could finish the sentence, Alan was interrupting him again. _"No, Kevin! What **you're** not understanding, is,...this is nuts! Why are we even going through this again?"_

Kevin glanced over at Alan. He had that look again, eyes glaring and mouth a thin line. That usually meant he wasn't in the mood to argue his assessment of the situation. But, this time, Kevin didn't stoop to his usual chiding and disarming tactics with Alan as he would have done two decades ago. Instead he went right ahead with his argument, stammering slightly from frustration.

"_Okay, y-...yeah,... it is. On one hand. It is, okay? But-..."_ He paused again, sighing.

They were on Alan's street now. Pulling into the driveway, Alan reached to click the garage door opener and looked over at Kevin, waiting for the huge door to slowly roll upward.

"_On one hand it is. On both hands it is. On fifty hands it is. Flynn, what part of 'you cannot save the whole world by yourself' are you not getting?"_

Then he pulled the car forward, parked it, and turned off the ignition. Instead of unfastening his seat belt, he crossed his arms, continuing right on with his point.

" _There's something you're not considering. Before you discovered the Grid...before you came along,...just how long had those programs been living in there under the rule of the MCP? A long time. I'm not saying it was right, or that it's right to leave them that way now, but they survived. You see where I'm going with this, right?... you see what my point is?"_

"_No, Alan. I don't! Because it's not the same thing,..." _Kevin's voice had that sing-song quality, and when he realized how intense he was sounding, he lowered his voice and went right on with his rant.

"_Look,...that was thirty years ago, and a whole lot's changed. I mean...for one thing,...back then your house sure wasn't souped up like the bat cave, so...so you know full well what this world is like now. But, even back then, you knew what was going on with Dillinger, and... he hasn't changed, man! Except now he's ...he's disembodied,...and flipped-out! All-powerful, and he's not gonna' quit with just the Grid,... that's probably just a warm up for him. He'll move on to the rest of the world, if he hasn't already. But... even if he doesn't...the Grid is my responsibility. I built it, man. I can't let things stay this way!" _

Alan didn't respond right away. He simply exhaled a sigh, unfastening his seat belt and growing more frustrated.

"_Flynn,...I don't disagree with you. I know what we're up against...but as I said, you're-...we're...going to have to take this slow, prioritize, and- ... would you just listen to yourself! Right now you're-...you're..."_

He stopped stammering and paused abruptly, letting his frustration simmer back down. Then he got out of the car, and walked past the open garage door to stand in the driveway, hands on his hips. He was tired, and really didn't have the patience for Kevin's slightly-obsessive dip back into the same one-track thinking which had gotten him stuck in the Grid in the first place. A few seconds more, and Kevin joined him there, then the two of them stood wordlessly for a moment. When Alan spoke again, it was in a hushed voice, as he gestured around them and then crossed his arms.

"_It's almost midnight. We're standing in the driveway. God only knows what Tron and Clu have been doing in the house all night, and whether or not it involved the smoke alarm this time. But just on the outside chance that my next-door neighbors don't already think there's a small commune of insanity building over here on this property, I'd prefer to keep that on the down-low. So, let's discuss this indoors? Or even better, maybe later?"_

Kevin paused, looking at him, and then finally nodded. With that, the older man turned and clicked the small remote on his key-chain, launching the automatic garage door into a slow downward crawl. Then he thrust his hands into his pockets, and walked slowly towards the side door.

Reaching the steps, he heard the sound of a car's engine and happened to look up just as a large black car with tinted windows drove by very slowly on the street. He stopped, and stood staring at it as it passed. There was no question in his mind that it had been strikingly similar to the strange black car which had kept pace with them on the freeway as they'd driven back from Encom a few nights ago, and was possibly even the same vehicle. He turned to look at Kevin, who was also staring at the passing car, then returned his wary gaze to the street.

Once the car had trolled slowly down the street and out of sight, Alan turned to look at Kevin again, at which point Kevin simply spread his arms wide and shook his head incredulously, both brows launching drastically upward.  
>He didn't say a word. He didn't have to. "I Told You So" was written all over his bearded face.<br>Alan sighed again, his frown deepening, and he shook his head. He wasn't about to argue. He just wished for once that the universe didn't have such uncannily-timed ways of dramatically illustrating Kevin Flynn's points.

: : : : :

The house was quiet. Miraculously, the kitchen wasn't a mess, nor was the living room.  
>Clu and Tron were already sprawled out across the beds in the guest suite, sound asleep, still wearing their clothes.<br>Kevin had gone upstairs to change into swim trunks, deciding the spa was indeed the best way to wrap up the very long day and night.  
>And Alan stood in sock feet in the kitchen opening the last of the day's mail.<p>

After a few moments of perusing the various flyers and envelopes, he walked to the recycling bin, and had just tossed a handful of junkmail circulars into it when the soft sound of knocking startled him.  
>The front door.<p>

He glanced at his watch, grumbling under his breath. _"Who the-... at this hour?"_

Leaning down to look out the kitchen window, he could see the glimpse of a car parked in front of the house, but the yard was dark, and the lawn shrubbery obscured all but the front bumper of the car. He sighed, thinking to himself.  
><em>...maybe if I stand right here and don't move, they'll go away...<em>

And then the knock came again. Followed by a muffled and very familiar voice. _"Alan?"_

His eyebrows rose, and he started towards the living room. A glance through the small peep-hole on the front door confirmed it. He unlocked the chain and opened the door, looking slightly bewildered.

"_Roy?...Everything alright?"_

The other man nodded, looking up at him with a nervous and slightly sheepish glance as he pushed the tortoise-rimmed round glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose. Alan sighed, and spoke in a tired voice, still looking somewhat confused.

"_You're at my door, at almost midnight. I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation."_

Roy hesitated only a moment, then gave Alan a pensive look, his eyes narrowing. _"That's what I was hoping."_

Alan's expression grew even more confused. Roy paused, taking a deep breath, and started to speak again, but then he stopped abruptly as movement in the room behind Alan caught his attention. And then he stood staring past the older man, mouth agape.

Alan's brow furrowed, and he slowly turned to see Kevin descending the staircase, barefooted and wearing a bathrobe over his swim trunks, with a towel slung over his shoulder. Alan closed his eyes, cringing inwardly, as an astonished half-whispered voice came from the doorstep behind him.

"_...Flynn?..."_

At the sound of Roy's voice speaking his name, Kevin stopped and looked up immediately. He took in the sight of Alan standing at the open front door looking like a deer in headlights. The other deer in headlights, standing on the doorstep staring at him in disbelief, was Roy Kleinberg.

Kevin's eyes widened, and then he blinked, managing to clear the last two stairs without even realizing it. He took a couple of halting steps toward the front door.

Just then, Alan cleared his throat nervously. "_Uh,...Roy,...I think you'd better come in."_

The curly-haired programmer stared at Alan, then nodded, barely even hearing the words. Then he took two steps in the door and stopped, staring once again at Kevin, who was walking slowly towards them. Shaking his head ever so slightly, Roy's bespectacled eyes were as wide as saucers.

"_Oh... my...God..." _He gazed up at the taller man as though he were seeing a ghost. "_Flynn."_

"_Roy..."_ Kevin's eyes wrinkled at the corners and he smiled, warmth suffusing his features. _"Man, it's good to see you...Ram."_

Then he just nodded slightly and stepped closer, reaching out his arms and drawing his shocked friend into a hug.


	27. Chapter 27

Los Angeles  
>Alan Bradley's residence<p>

* * *

><p>For a few seconds there was utter silence in the room, disturbed only by a soft clicking sound as Alan closed the front door.<p>

Roy slowly unfolded himself from Kevin's hug and stepped back, eyes still wide and incredulous, shaking his head slowly while staring up at the man who for all practical purposes had disappeared from the planet and then returned after twenty-one years. He looked Kevin from head to toe, and then his brows dove into a frown as he spoke.

"_Flynn, … you unmitigated colossal jerk! … Where in the freaking name of Möbius have you BEEN for twenty years, man?" _

Kevin's expression was somewhere in between bemused and awkwardly repentant. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word, Roy turned and focused his growing agitation onto Alan, pointing a finger as his eyes flew wide open again.

"_And YOU! … at what point did you plan on mentioning this to me,... Mister 'Gosh-It-Must-Have-Slipped-My-Mind-To-Mention-Our-Old-Friend-Was-Back-From-The-Bermuda-Triangle'?"_

Pausing, he stood looking back and forth between Kevin and Alan, waiting for an answer, and then he crossed his arms, looking again at Alan.

"_Any idea how long I've been tailing you? "_

Alan frowned, as two and two started adding up. Then it was his turn to give an incredulous look. _"Wait...tailing me? That-...that was YOU?"_

Uncrossing his arms, Roy nodded as though it were a ridiculous question. _"Yuh-huh!"_

Alan's own eyes narrowed at the answer, then he jerked his chin back slightly with a skeptical look. _"Van?... Or the black car?"_

Roy's eyebrow raised, and he smirked proudly. _"Both."_

Alan's expression went back to incredulous, and he chuckled. _"WHAT! What are you doing following us around?"_

Roy threw up his arms. _"Well, hello? That's sorta' been my job for the past two decades or so! Not to mention the whole ZackAttack thing. Mad skills, remember?" _

Then he sighed, giving a disgusted smirk and continuing.

_"I've been with Encom almost two weeks. And you, the formerly-incurable workaholic, have hardly even been at the office. When you have, you've said all of maybe twenty words to me, total,... and Sam's expression du jour has pretty much been 'sheepish' the whole time too. I knew something was up. Plus you haven't returned any of my emails about the Flynn Lives press reports, and now-..."_

Roy paused, exasperated and frowning again as he looked back and forth between Kevin and Alan. _"Now,...turns out, Flynn does live! And it took me playing __Scooby Doo on you to find that out!" _

Alan sighed, glancing at Kevin, and then back at Roy, and before either of them could reply the bespectacled man continued. His voice was somewhat softer, but he still looked hurt, and angry.

"_Look,... I tailed you because it seemed like you were hiding something, okay Alan? And that's not like you..." _Roy gestured towards Kevin with an open palm._ "...and this is a pretty big something, man! Why didn't you tell me?"_

Kevin looked down at his feet, trying to suppress the slight grin which kept wanting to find it's way onto his face. Roy was so very much like Ram, especially when he was miffed, and in this instance he was more than miffed, and rightfully so...he clearly didn't understand why he'd been left out of the loop. But seeing him get addled like this was still amusing and endearing, and he'd missed the man so much it made him smile even just hearing him grouse and fuss. Yet Kevin knew that grinning just really wasn't the best reaction right now, and so after a pause he looked back up at his estranged friend and spoke, compassion in his eyes.

"_Roy,... we can explain, man. We definitely can. Nobody was trying to keep anything from you...its just-"_

Kevin sighed, pausing and shaking his head, trying to find a way to describe even a fraction of what they'd all been through.

"_It's just-...it's,...we haven't known quite what to do first. Since I got back it's kinda' been complete chaos, man,...just one damn thing after another,... and-...and... there's been a reason for all the secrecy, subversion...it's-"_

As Kevin sighed and paused again, Roy gave an exasperated smirk, finishing the sentence for him. _"Complicated. Right?"_

Kevin nodded. _"Yes. But we'll explain everything, and it won't seem so complicated. Well- ...yeah, it will, but, at least you'll understand."_

Roy's eyes narrowed, his expression softening somewhat. Whether he wanted to admit it or not Flynn had always had that effect on him. Then he smirked again. _"This better be good."_

Kevin patted his friend on the arm, and finally let the grin surface. Just as he knew it would, it disarmed Roy even more. _"It is, buddy,...it is."_

Alan nodded towards the hallway, hands on his hips, and spoke in a lowered voice.

"_Why don't we go and talk in the game room? That way we won't wake Tron and Clu-"_ He paused mid-sentence, instantly realizing he might've opened another can of worms with the mention of the names.

And just as he suspected, Roy's brows hitched into a confused frown. _"Who?..."_

Kevin gave a sigh, shook his head, and patted Roy's shoulder again. _"House guests...or-...well, extended family. Tell ya all about it in a sec."_

Alan took a deep breath, exhaled a sigh, and stepped towards the kitchen. _"Well. Anybody want something to drink?"_

Roy nodded, still staring at Kevin. "_Yeah. Strongest thing you've got. And make it a double."_

Kevin chuckled, turning his head to call softly after Alan. "_Just water's fine, for me." _And then he grinned, putting an arm around Roy's shoulder. _" ...besides, after a double, somebody'll probably have to carry Ram here to the couch."_

Roy frowned, rolling his eyes. "_Funny, Flynn." _

Then he turned, stepping back and glancing again at Kevin's bearded face, the silvered long hair, then looking him over head to toe, taking in the sight of the bathrobe, knee-length swim trunks, bare feet and the towel still slung over his shoulder. Roy smirked, and then grinned.

"_What's with the beard? You look like a Jedi surfer."_

"_Yeah?..." _Kevin chuckled. Then he nodded towards Alan who was just rounding the corner from the kitchen. _"He said I looked like Grizzly Adams."_

"_Here you go..."_ Alan smirked and handed Roy his drink, then handed the water bottle to Kevin who nodded in wordless thanks.

Roy looked down at the glass of amber liquid, then sniffed it and took a sip, his eyes widening as he coughed slightly and looked back up at Alan. _"What is it?"_

"_Oh, just some brandy. Fifty year old. Only thing I had to offer at the moment." _Alan shrugged, raising the bottle and perusing the label. Then he tucked it back under his arm and gave a slight grin. _"...and, don't worry, Flynn won't have to carry you. There's a couch in the game room. "_

Kevin guffawed, and Alan suppressed a chuckle. Roy's brows hitched in exasperation. He looked at both of them, and then just scowled and sighed, slowly sipping his drink.

Still suppressing a chuckle, Alan gestured towards the hallway._ "C'mon. Let's adjourn, shall we?"_

: : :

The explanation had thus far taken a half hour. Roy's expression had remained mostly incredulous, and Kevin felt like he'd been speaking in one long, weird run-on sentence the entire time.  
>He'd gotten all the way to where Sam and Quorra had left the Grid, the reintegration with Clu had happened, he'd woken up beside the Sea of Simulation and found himself re-rezzed into existence again, and was just now to the point where he'd re-united with a redeemed Clu and found Tron.<br>He paused, sipping from his water bottle, then sat back on the couch again with a sigh.

Roy sat in a chair across from Kevin and Alan, leaning back against the pool table and shaking his head, with the beginnings of a slight grin on his face.

"_Holy freaking-...I just-...I... can't believe this. All of this. One, that you're back. And two, that you really did it. The Grid...it was real, this whole time!" _

Roy downed the last of his drink in one gulp, then coughed and shook his head. Alan gave a smirk, sipping from his own glass and nodded.

"_My reaction was pretty much the same as yours when I found out. Only they didn't have shots of brandy on the Grid."_

Roy gave a shrug, nodding his head in commiseration. Then his eyes suddenly widened with realization and he stared at the older programmer, baffled.

"_Wait. YOU were on the Grid too?" _

Alan nodded, quirking an eyebrow. _"Mm-hm. Sure was. For about two days. I'd gotten another page from the arcade, which, is a long story but, anyway,...I ended up going by the arcade, then ended up finding Kevin's lab, and then,... though I'm not sure what happened, hit the wrong key on the keypad and ended up digitized into the Grid. That's how I found out Kevin was still alive."_

Roy sighed, shaking his head again in dazed wonder. Clearly there was much more to be explained, and as it was, this was huge.  
>Wordlessly he held out his empty glass to Alan. Surprised, Alan chuckled, reached for the bottle of brandy, then stood up and poured him a refill. Then he sat back down, taking another sip from his own glass. When he glanced back up at Roy, Roy wasn't even looking at him. Instead he was staring across the room, his eyes widening in alarm and then in disbelief as he stammered in almost a whisper.<p>

"_K-...wh-...Kevin...?" _

Roy shook his head, still staring. Alan and Kevin glanced over quickly, just as Clu stepped into their view. He emerged from the small hallway and into the game room, then stopped to stand looking at all three of them, his eyes bleary from sleep, hair slightly disheveled, and a look of confusion on his face as he scratched his bearded chin.

Speechless, Roy stared at Clu and blinked. Except for the slight growth of beard, the man looked exactly like Kevin had twenty-five or thirty years ago, just before he'd disappeared. Astonished, Roy's gaze traveled from Clu, to Kevin, then to Alan, and then he looked down at the glass in his own hand, slowly setting it warily onto the pool table. His mumbled and half-whispered words sounded like an involuntary extension of his thoughts. _"What the-...what's in this stuff?" _

Grinning, Kevin stood up and walked over to stand next to Clu. _"It's not a hallucination. Roy,...this is Clu. Clu,...this is our old friend Roy Kleinberg."_

Clu nodded, and spoke, his voice still gruff from sleep. _"Hello, Roy."_

Roy's eyes widened even more as he slowly stood up, still staring at Clu as if he were a small green man from Mars. Then he laughed nervously, looking at Kevin.

"_Jeez, Flynn! He even sounds like you!" _

At that comment, Clu looked at Kevin with a smug grin. Then as Roy approached to stand across from him warily, Clu extended his hand to him.

"_Pleased to meet you."_

Shaking the erstwhile program's hand, Roy just laughed again as he looked Clu over from head to toe. Finally he spoke, still shaking his head and grinning.

"_Likewise. Man, this is too weird."_

"_Yeah, 'guess it is... a bit."_ Kevin chuckled, walking back over to the couch to sit down. Clu walked slowly over and sat down beside him, and he turned to look at his young look-a-like.

"_What's the matter, buddy? Did we wake you?"_

Clu shook his head. _"I don't think so. I woke up because I was thirsty, so I went to get a glass of water. Then on the way back down the corridor I heard voices talking."_

Kevin nodded, glancing at Roy. _"Yeah, Roy here came over just after we got back home. Haven't seen him since I left for the Grid. So, I was just telling him the basic story. You know,...me, you, Tron, the Grid. Everything. How we got back here."_

Roy stood eying Clu and then smirking at Kevin. _"Actually, you hadn't gotten to that _'how we got back here' _part yet. I'm assuming there's a reason why you brought Clu with you, and h-"_

He stopped speaking, flinching when movement from the corner of his vision suddenly caught his attention.  
>He glanced immediately to his right, and then his jaw dropped.<br>It dropped even more, as the young man who could be the young Alan Bradley's identical twin spoke in Alan's voice, staring back at him with equal disbelief.

"_You-...you look like...Ram..."_

Roy's brows raised nearly to the roof, and he just grinned. Of course. He knew who this was. In some odd nonsensical way, it made perfect sense. "_Tron." _

He stepped closer to the shocked former program, and Tron's eyes widened even more. Roy grinned and extended his hand. "_I'm Roy."_

Still staring as a slight smile found its way to his lips, Tron slowly reached to complete the handshake. "_You were-...you're...Ram's User?"_

Roy's own brows hitched to the ceiling, and his glance shot to Kevin as he settled into a frown again. _"Wait. Ram? There's a real Ram? No way! You didn't tell me that!"_

"_There... was. He-..." _Kevin paused, sadness flickering in his eyes. "_Ram was part of the old system. Back before I realized I could-...that I had User powers and could save programs from-..."_ he paused again, sighing as the sadness crossed his face once more, and then he gave a wry smile. _"Ram didn't make it."_

Tron spoke again. "_But you're his User.."_ And then he just nodded. Of course this was Ram's User. There was no way he couldn't be.

Tron stood looking at Roy with such reverence, a level of admiration to which clearly Roy wasn't accustomed. He stared back at the former program, not quite sure what to say. But Tron just smiled fondly, seeming undaunted by the man's uneasiness.

"_Ram was my friend. He's one of very few memories I have of anything before- ...before Rinzler,... but I will never forget him. You can be proud of him. He was...like a User among programs."_

Roy just looked up at Tron, nodding ever so slightly in acknowledgment, and gave a soft smile.  
>He had no idea what to say, and was still clearly taken aback by all of this.<br>Even with a mind like his, which had long-since been quite open to the most extreme of extreme possibilities, this was still a huge amount of almost-science-fiction to process all at once. Yet here it was, not fiction but reality. And as Tron moved to sit next to Alan on one of the couches, it was just plain surreality.  
>Because there sat Alan beside his younger self, and on the other small couch sat Kevin Flynn beside his younger self. And all four of them were looking back at him.<br>To Roy it was like seeing double, only not quite, what with the age-differences. And that was funny because he definitely hadn't had that much to drink, but at the moment he reckoned he just might have to remedy that.  
>Shaking his head, he reached for his glass from the pool table and took another huge gulp, coughing again and wincing at the bitter taste. Then he shook his head again, steadied himself, and sat back down in his chair, ignoring the amused smirks from Alan and Kevin. He waved a hand absently and then crossed his arms, returning their smirks with one of his own.<p>

"_Okay. Fine. Couch. Whatever. Looks like I'm crashing here tonight. So. Where were we in the story?"_

: : : : : : :

Some time later, Tron and Clu had shuffled off to the guest room, retiring for sleep once more.  
>The others had adjourned to the patio, where Alan and Roy had then stretched out in the two chaise lounges beside the spa while Kevin immersed himself in the warm water and proceeded to expound upon all which had happened on the Grid and all which had happened since.<p>

Eventually, after he'd soaked for almost an hour and talked for most of that time, Kevin hoisted himself out of the spa with both arms, climbed to stand and then reached for the towel. He glanced over at Roy and then grinned, nodding at him. Alan looked over to see that their friend was now soundly asleep, arms still crossed and glasses slightly askew on his face. He chuckled softly.

"_Roy?" _

After getting no response, Alan sat forward in the chair, then leaned over and reached to nudge the slightly-younger man lightly on the arm.

"_Hey. Ramster. Roy. Still with us?"_

Roy didn't move, and simply snored very softly for a few seconds, then went back to quiet, steady slumber. Alan grinned, and looked back at Kevin knowingly.

"_Yep. You called it. Two drinks and he's out cold. Which one of us is gonna' pick him up and carry him to the couch?"_

Kevin grinned, drying off and reaching for the bathrobe. "_Well, it'd be a shame to break tradition, but I don't think my back's as strong as it was twenty years ago. Bet he'll wake up once we get him to his feet though."_

He sauntered over to stand on the other side of the chaise lounge, and bent down. Just then, the bespectacled man stirred, opened his eyes, and then jumped when he saw both Alan and Kevin bending over him and staring at him.

"_Aagh! Jeez! What?..."_

Roy blinked and sat up abruptly, yawning and adjusting his glasses. Then he shook his head, woozy from having had two glasses of brandy with no tolerance for it. He winced, rubbing at his temple, then finally smirked and nodded.

"_Right. I know. Couch. Going."_

He stood up, and Kevin wrapped an arm around his shoulders to steady him, then the three of them walked slowly across to the patio doorway. Alan stepped over to open the sliding door, suppressing a laugh as he listened to the dialogue between Roy and Kevin.

"_Flynn?"_

"_Yeah buddy?"_

"_How come old Tron here got the cool nickname?"_

Kevin chuckled. _"Well,...'cause he wrote Tron's program. Ram's a pretty cool one too, though. He was a hero on the Grid."_

"_Yeah?"_

"_Yeah."_

As Kevin and Roy walked arm in arm into the game room, Alan closed the doors behind them. Roy plopped down on the couch, kicked off his shoes, then swung his feet up to stretch out, mumbling _"g'night" _as he did. Alan switched off the lights, and he and Kevin had made it almost to the hall doorway when they heard Roy's voice call out again.

"_Flynn?"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_Glad you're back. Missed you."_

Kevin smiled warmly, calling back over his shoulder softly._ "Me too, buddy. Missed you too. 'Night."_


	28. Chapter 28

Los Angeles  
>Flynn's Arcade<br>Three weeks later...

* * *

><p>Kevin stood outside the arcade, watching as the blankets of grayish clouds rolled slowly against the indigo backdrop, obscuring all but a few occasional winks of stars. It's funny how life's experiences can burn things into one's memory, reassigning meaning to certain things...such as the way cloudy skies at night would forever remind him of the Grid.<p>

The current overcast perhaps would have been a dismal and dour panoramic reminiscence, but at the moment he didn't mind, because the rain made all the difference. There was never real rain on the Grid. And this rain was just a light drizzle, drifting down to settle on his hair and beard, darkening specks along the shoulders and sleeves of his cotton jacket.

Raking back a damp lock of hair from his forehead he sighed, closing his eyes and relishing the coolness of the air. It was cool but not too cold, a blessing considering that it was early January, and he stood there just breathing in the moisture. In the quiet of the deserted street, he listened to the sound of nothingness from behind closed eyelids for quite a few moments, allowing himself to drift into a meditative state. The day had been stressful, and his and Clu's argument hadn't helped matters. Maybe these regenerative few moments in the soft rain was just what he needed. And as he stood there surrendering to the gathering dampness without aversion, he realized that yes, it was just what he needed. This brought a contented sigh, and a peace which washed over him.

After several moments, the tiny drops of rain soon began to make soft pecking sounds, and he supposed that meant the rain was picking up a bit. Except, oddly he didn't feel it falling on his face anymore, and when he slowly opened his eyes he saw why. There was an umbrella over his head. And Alan was standing just beside him. Kevin didn't move or flinch, only smiled as the seasoned voice so nearly identical to Tron's spoke from beside him.

_"You do realize you're standing in the rain?"_

Kevin's soft chuckle answered first, then a sigh. _"Yeah."_

Breathing a contented sigh he crossed his arms, now aware that the dampness had accumulated on his sleeves, the cool wet fabric now sticking to his skin. That felt slightly less than comfortable, but it was simply what happens when one deliberately stands in the rain for ten minutes. Probably not the most normal thing to do in January, but then again he'd never exactly been the poster boy for unwavering conventionality.

He chuckled to himself again...so very metaphorical that Alan would walk out and hold the umbrella over him, protecting him from his own rash gestures and yet somehow not encroaching his space in an unwelcome way. That had always been the case for as long as they'd been friends. Except for that fateful night in 1989, when Alan hadn't known to...when Kevin had gone into the gathering storm all by himself, which had turned into a terrifying deluge and then had frozen him over in the Grid for twenty-one years while life in this world went by without him. Never one to flourish in captivity, he'd simply existed, meditating, biding his time until he'd all but forgotten what he was biding it for.

But now by some miracle he was here again, in his world, back at his old arcade, standing under Alan's umbrella in this rare Los Angeles rain.  
>Had it been two decades ago he'd have made some smart-ass quip about how the umbrella was the size of a small carnival tent or how Alan was the perpetual boy scout in the always-be-prepared department, but instead he just gave a soft wry smile.<p>

_"Been a long time since I've experienced real rain."_

Alan nodded slowly, brows raising to accompany the smirky grin as he glanced at Kevin's wet hair and jacket.

_"Well, I'd say you've experienced it alright. There's a spare sweater in the trunk, if you want to change into something dry."_

Kevin grinned. Now he really wanted to tease Alan for being a boy scout. But he didn't. Instead he just shrugged.

_"Naw,...it'll dry pretty fast. But,..." _Pausing, he looked down, suddenly burdened with the weight of so much he wasn't sure how to say. He settled for the abridged version.

_"...thanks."_

Alan gave another nod, squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath, exhaling slowly. The two of them stood there in the quiet for several more long moments, the raindrops speckling the umbrella in steady taps, until Alan finally spoke again.

_"Flynn?"_

_"Hm?"_

Alan raised eyebrow, eyes glancing sidelong at Kevin without actually turning his head. _ "Are we through experiencing the rain yet?"_

Kevin chuckled, nodding and turning towards the arcade as he patted his friend on the back. _"Yeah. We're good."_

Once through the front door, Alan closed the umbrella and shook it, glancing across the arcade to where Clu stood in the far corner, jaw clenched, eyes intently focused on the screen of the Galaga machine as he played.

_"He's just about made his way through most of these games."_

Kevin glanced over at Clu. The former system admin didn't look away from the game machine, and seemed unaware they were even speaking about him. But something in Clu's intense countenance and posture suggested this was his way of withdrawing for a while, of unwinding from the stress of the day, and to that Kevin could definitely relate.  
>Alan leaned the wet umbrella against the wall and then nodded once more in Clu's direction.<p>

_"I noticed he's been cataloging these games on a clipboard. Has notes about each one...working order, quirks, glitches, lights missing, sound, you name it. Should be a snap to decide which ones to keep."_

Just then Kevin shot him a look of surprise, as though he'd suggested they demolish the building.

_"Kiddin' me? I say we keep all of 'em,... if they all work. We just clean 'em up, do a few fixes here and there, maybe replace some of the token wells with new electronics. They don't make 'em like that anymore, man."_

Alan gave an amused frown. _ "They don't make them anymore period, Flynn."_

_"All the more reason to keep 'em, right?"_

The grin facing him was one of Flynn's more indomitable varieties, and Alan knew from experience that arguing him out of this was futile, at least for right now. Perhaps Clu's findings would present sufficient evidence to support his own opinion that salvaging a roomful of thirty-year-old game machines in various states of disrepair might be a tedious venture. But for now he switched to a time-proven tactic between the two of them...he acquiesced with a simple shrug, and changed the subject.

_"Why don't we go downstairs and check on Tron and Ram? Just to make sure they haven't grown cobwebs."_

Kevin nodded, giving a chuckle as they walked towards the Tron machine. _"Speaking of that,...kinda' weird having two Trons now, isn't it?"_

Alan shrugged, the hint of a smug grin on his face as he pulled the machine out from the wall and then started wedging the chair against it to keep it in the open position.

_"Only when Roy says 'Tron' and then Tron and I both answer at the same time. I think your idea of sticking with just"T" for me works. It's what Roy calls me half the time anyway."_

After a long pause where he'd expected Kevin's reply to be, Alan looked up to see that his friend was only half listening to him, and was instead looking across the expansive room at Clu, who at that point looked up from the game machine just long enough to cast Kevin a somewhat somber, icy glance before returning his intensely-focused gaze to the playing screen.

Alan didn't miss the exchange, and his eyebrow raised. In a hushed voice, he leaned closer to Kevin. _"What was that all about?"_

Kevin sighed resting hands on hips. _ "Aw,...nothing. Nothing too heavy. It's just,...we had a slight tiff earlier."_ He was trying to be nonchalant and dismissive, but from the looks of Alan's lingering raised eyebrow, he wasn't succeeding. So he launched into a short-form explanation, voice still low.

_ "Well,...long story, but, somehow, Clu and I had the same dream. Weird one. Me, not too long ago, couple of weeks back. Him, a few nights ago. Neither of us realized it until this afternoon, when he comes up and mentions it out of the blue, and-"_

Alan interrupted, his voice equally hushed. _"Wait - you mean,...you had the exact same dream?"_

Kevin nodded. _ "Pretty much. Of course Clu's recall is a bit more detail oriented...mine's mostly just recall of images, emotions... but, yeah, same dream."_

Alan's brows plunged into a puzzled look. _"And you hadn't talked about your dream beforehand,...to him?"_

Kevin shook his head matter-of-factly. Alan looked at the floor a moment, then suddenly his glance shot back up to meet Kevin's.

_"The dream...was that the night when you were here, upstairs? When I walked over and tried to wake you up, and you nearly suffocated the life out of me?"_

Kevin stifled a self-conscious chuckle and nodded, a slight frown etching its way between his brows. _"Yep. That's the one."_

Alan glanced over at Clu, who was still absorbed in playing the game. Then he looked back at Kevin.

_"So,... okay,...what – you had an argument, about a dream?"_

Kevin gave a mirthless chuckle, looking down at his feet for a moment. Then he looked up with a small wry smile.

_"No,...no,...that's... just what started the conversation. It was old stuff, really,...the Grid,...things we probably needed to talk about long before now. Sore feelings, misunderstandings, and, I think something I said unsettled him too. I can tell he's still wrapping his head around it. He'll be alright though. We'll be alright..."_

Voice trailing off, Kevin glanced at Clu once more, then nodded towards the opening in the wall which was ordinarily hidden behind the Tron machine.

_"Man, you go ahead and check on the guys. Think I'll stick around up here, and see if maybe he wants to talk some more."_

Wordlessly Alan nodded in agreement, then turned and headed through the doorway.  
>Kevin slowly walked a few steps away, stopping at one of the thick square support beams which ran floor to ceiling in the large room. Crossing his arms casually, he leaned back against it, quietly watching Clu from a distance.<br>If Clu knew he was being observed, he didn't let on. And as Kevin stood there, his thoughts drifted back to earlier in the day, to the disagreement they'd had, and to how it had started...

_...Clu was standing in the middle of the arcade floor, pacing. Kevin, leaning back against the very same beam, watching him for a moment before shaking his head and sighing._

_"Why didn't you say something about this before now, Clu?"_

_"I didn't want to think about it."_

_Frustrated, Kevin dropped his arms to his sides, heaving a sigh._

_"Well how's that been workin' for ya buddy? Because you've been a ball of the fidgets for two days, all surly, not talking to anybody except to snap at us. Seems to me like all you've been doin' is thinking about it."_

_Clu stopped, facing him, jaw set and eyes intense._

_"We have to do something about this, Kevin! It's very, very weird! We have to figure out what this means...to try to stop what's going to happen!"_

_"Clu..." Kevin's voice was compassionate, his gentle frown not unlike the one he'd once given the very young Sam when the boy had tried to figure out a way to stop having nightmares. With a sigh, he walked closer to this former program, the man who was now like a son and yet at the same time so much like himself._

_"I felt the same as you did, when I woke up from the dream, 'coupla weeks ago. Man,...woke up and grabbed Bradley like I was drowning, nearly scared the crap out of him. I was convinced I had to do something, right then, right away. Didn't even know what that something was. Alan had to peel me off the ceiling about it, talk some sense into me."_

_Clu was frowning, jaw still set, eyes still cast to the floor. _  
><em>Kevin walked a step closer, wanting to put his arm around Clu, to shelter him from the stress he was feeling, but he knew it wasn't the time, and he knew in this case it would do little good. Instead he just sighed, continuing in a gentle voice, trying as best he could to impart something which would quell the man's unrest.<em>

_"Buddy, ... dreams aren't usually literal. And we can't always figure out what things in a dream mean. Sometimes we're not supposed to. Or sometimes it just happens, kinda' just occurs to us as we go along what the message was. Usually it's some metaphor. In this case, yeah, it's weird that we had the same dream. It sure is. A phenomenon. But we can't just force a resolution to it right away...it doesn't work that way."_

_This wasn't what Clu wanted to hear. _  
><em>He looked back up with fierceness in his eyes, anger simmering beneath the surface which was new and ancient all at once".<br>_

_"WHY NOT, Kevin ? ! ...Why not? !"_

_He paused, fists clenching as he started to pace again. A moment later he stopped once more, almost glaring at Kevin._

_"When exactly do you plan to figure out something which very well could be a harbinger of destruction? WHEN? !" _

_Then he exhaled a hiss of a sigh as he threw up his hands. _

_"You never listen to me, Kevin! NEVER! You didn't listen then, and you don't listen now! It's the same as with the ISO's, and you haven't changed, except to-"_

_"Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa!...wait a minute Clu,...hold on." _

_Kevin's brow knotted, his voice low and assertive as he interrupted. Then he took a deep breath, his gaze zeroing in on Clu's eyes with an unnerving stare, his own eyes equally intense though his voice was even and calm. _

_"What's this about, man? Then,... or now?"_

_After a long pause, Clu answered begrudgingly, hating it that Kevin had decided to, as Users called it, 'psychoanalyze' him. He lifted his chin defiantly._

_"Both."_

_Kevin's gaze didn't falter. He drew in another deep breath, trying to gather some patience with which to discuss the past and the erstwhile impasse they'd already discussed so many times before. Slowly he exhaled, his eyes still not leaving Clu's as he gave an almost imperceptible nod, rising to the implied challenge with one raised eyebrow._

_"Okay. Fine. Let's talk about it. When did you start thinking I don't listen to you?"_

_Clu didn't respond right away. Instead he looked at the floor. When he looked back at Kevin his eyes were unapologetic but had lost some of their previous intensity, and in its place was an almost imploring glimpse of uncertainty, resignation, as if he knew his erstwhile search for absolutes was futile. Yet still for a moment more he persisted, trying to court that which was elusive and impossible._

_"I tried to come to you with something which required your attention, something I perceived as a threat. You spoke of variables, unknowns, miracles, nebulous things, then breezed right off-Grid and never helped me fix the problem. So I fixed it, in the best way I knew how."_

_Clu paused, sighing, accepting, inwardly redirecting._

_"There's no point in dredging up the past, and I understand that,..I understand where I was wrong. But you were too, Kevin. You were too. In failing to address the situation with some kind of pro-active plan. I can't help but wonder if you're not making that same mistake now."_

_With that, Clu sighed, and turned to walk across the room, stopping at a game machine and picking up his clipboard. _

_Rather than to reply when angry, or to follow after him seeking some immediate resolution to the argument, Kevin simply sighed. He'd give this some thought, and then try again to speak with Clu about it..._

Kevin shook himself out of the memory.

That was several hours ago.  
>In the time which had passed since, Kevin had retired to the lab, assisting Roy and Tron in the process of reconfiguring the aperture software and establishing several firewall checks and balances.<br>Clu had remained upstairs in the arcade, tirelessly and doggedly testing each game machine, cataloging it for its function, taking note of any imperfections which needed to be addressed. In his way, essentially changing the things he could.

Now as Kevin watched him, he was filled with appreciation for the former program's determination and persistence. Those were traits Clu had so readily and in such plentiful unwavering supply. Things which, for all his own brilliance and endless stream of lightning-fast ideas, he was surely lacking. Kevin knew that once Clu's persistence was honed and tempered by a new understanding of the User world and by the acceptance of what was within his control and what wasn't, Clu would most likely be the one to teach him a thing or two about perseverance.

He drew in a long breath, pushing away from the support beam and slowly walking over to where Clu stood writing on the clipboard, indexing the results of his tests on the game machines.  
>After watching him for a moment, he spoke.<p>

_"You've done some good work today, buddy. And I appreciate it so much."_

Clu's eyes shot upward from the clipboard. And then the traces of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, as much as he tried to suppress them in the lingering wanes of his resentment.

_"...Thank you."_

As Clu returned to his writing, Kevin drew in a long breath, watching and waiting for the right moment to resume their previous conversation. That moment came when Clu completed his notes, and lowered the clipboard, looking at Kevin wordlessly as though he expected some statement to follow. And when Kevin didn't speak right away, Clu jumped in to make use of the moment himself. His eyes now less intense, he had a look of honest concern, if not remorse for his previous anger and outburst.

_"I don't understand your world, Kevin. I don't understand metaphor, variables, imperfect things. This dream, and what it suggests...I don't understand. You're a User. Why can't you fix this? Why can't we? Why can't we force a resolution? Or at least, to even consider that there might be a way to."_

Once more Kevin's eyes warmed with quiet compassion.  
>He understood, and this wasn't about the past.<br>It wasn't even about the now, at least, not directly.  
>It all came down to Clu not understanding what he himself had railed against so many times before in his life - the simple, immutable truth that some things weren't up to us to force or to resolve, Users or not.<br>He himself had learned that immutable truth with Jordan's passing, with his mother's illness and deterioration, with the still-unresolved mystery that was Encom and the MCP, with his imprisonment on the Grid, and with how all those things tied together. Some things were not in our control, swayed instead by either the hand of God, the hand of man, or both.  
>His empathy rose as he thought of Clu wrestling with that same powerlessness now, and now it was time to explain it. Or at least, to try.<p>

He sighed, leaning against the game machine. As he spoke, the wisdom in his years poured forth in his calm voice.

_"Clu...I failed at so many things back then. Still do now. Always will. It's a sad fact of human existence. Failure. It's the only way we learn. The challenge is to discern what failures we can avoid, and what failures we have to accept as part of the process, or even as an acceptable loss in achieving what we want to achieve, in doing what has to be done."_

Clu didn't react, his gaze still focused somewhere between the floor and a nameless infinity. Kevin knew he was listening, and processing the words, and so he sighed, continuing.

_"Something you didn't realize, back then,...something I've only come to accept myself over the years, over the cycles...is... that being a User is not in any way about perfection. It's about not having the answers, and messing up a lot. I was growing up at the same time as you, man. And not doing a real great job of it. I was an idealistic child. Started out with all these great plans about the Grid, and then...my life happened. Or rather, it... fell apart..at the same time as it was blossoming..."_

He paused, drawing in a deep breath and forcing back emotion.

_"...the birth of my son,...then Jordan's death,...then trying to protect Sam, trying to heal myself, run a company, trying to hold up underneath the enormity of it all...I -...I failed, man,...at just about every turn. And failed to keep so many promises I made. Because, it wasn't up to me. None of it was. Wasn't in my control. Best I could do is offer best-case hopes, not promises,...and I failed to see that. The variables weren't up to me. They still aren't, even now. Just like with the Grid, the variables - some of them were miracles, ...and at the same time a double-edged sword of disaster. And there really aren't any absolutes in life. That's the myth. There's only the nebulous. It's no different with trying to interpret a dream...it's just that the stakes are higher, because it's life...it's happening, unfolding in real-time, even if we fail to interpret it correctly."_

He watched Clu's face, saw the slight furrow of the brow identical to his.  
>He knew Clu was trying hard to understand, but this was the nexus, the existential gap between what he himself understood and what he didn't.<br>Might as well forward through it, and make the jump together.

_"Whether it's this situation now with the Grid...or, with life...Users, this world...there's something other than us in control, man. And, just what that something is,... I can't really say for sure. But in terms of this world,... of being a User,... of what's out there that's bigger than us- ...whatever's in control of it... I know you'll spend your whole life trying to figure that out, trying to have faith in it Just like I have, and still am."_

Another pause, and Clu glanced up at him. He was still with him, listening, sorting it out, processing it. And so Kevin continued.

_"We'll figure this dream thing out, man. We will. If there's action to be taken, we'll take it, we'll do whatever we can. But, it's like what I've been trying to get at, with all of this... along the way, we learn that some things we can't fix right away, and that sometimes trying to brings about the very failure we're hoping to avoid. You see what I'm saying?"_

Clu just looked up at him. His face hadn't changed expression, but some faint glimmer of understanding in his eyes was like the sunrise breaking over the horizon.

_"Yes."_ Clu gave a subtle nod. _"Yes,...I do..."_

The former program sighed, frowning and tilting his head slightly, the hints of a sardonic smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

_"...and, I can't, for the pixels of me,...understand why anyone would want to be a User. Kevin, this world is the most confusing thing I've ever encountered."_

Kevin couldn't help the slow grin that spread across his face. It was like the continuation of the sunrise which had begun in Clu's eyes. He laughed, leaning back against the game machine, and then stepped forward to pat Clu's shoulder.

_"You said it, buddy! It sure as heck is!"_

Clu shifted from foot to foot, wishing in earnest that he could shift the subject as well, to something which did make sense, which did have answers, which wasn't born of some unresolvable riddle. He raised the clipboard in his grasp, and handed it to Kevin.

_"Would you like to take a look at what I've got here,...what's up with each of the machines?"_

_"I sure would, buddy. Let's see here..."_

Kevin's voice trailed off as he glanced over the pages, turning each one and poring over the results.

_"Hey,...not a bad prognosis for a buncha' thirty-year-old arcade relics! Alan's not gonna' want to keep all these games, and I agree, but, man, once we cull a few of 'em out, looks like we can make this place a happenin' scene again. With a little elbow grease. Kind of like a fun antique shop where you can play with what's on the shelves."_

Clu chuckled, grinning somewhat tentatively. He really had no idea what an antique shop was, but he was certain that if it made Kevin smile like that, it had to be a good thing.

_"I know you like the notion of game tokens, for the nostalgic effect,...but for the games which have malfunctioning token receptacles, ...couldn't we could forgo the need for replacing individual token receptacles by instead reconfiguring their mechanisms...synchronizing them all along a serial pathway and using, what's it called - a digital smart-card?... It would save the effort and expenditure of restoring each electronic housing, and, maybe the tokens could be distributed as prizes, redeemable for more smart-card game access?"_

Kevin grinned, nodding. _"I like the way you think, buddy. May just make you the general manager of this place."_

Clu grinned proudly. Then while Kevin stood considering the idea of digital conversion, Clu walked over and unplugged the cord of a nearby machine, marveling over the primitive way in which it was powered.

Suddenly the muffled sound of shouts coming from the basement startled both Kevin and Clu from their respective thoughts.  
>Kevin looked at Clu, who only shrugged, then he took a few steps towards the center of the room, keening his ear, listening. He heard muffled voices, but couldn't make out any of what they were saying.<p>

He was about to start towards the Tron machine when he heard the pounding of footsteps reverberating from the basement stairs, and then Alan nearly tripped over the threshold of the doorway, his face fraught with distress as he stepped through it and bounded across the room. Roy was a few steps behind him, equally distressed. Alan's voice was breathless, ragged, and tinged with alarm.

_"Kevin! ...Tron's digitized himself in to the Grid!"_


	29. Chapter 29

The Grid

* * *

><p>It had happened so fast.<p>

He'd been simply standing there next to the interface desk, watching as Roy activated the new firewall and began the routine virus scans. The next thing he knew, Roy was frantically slamming his fingers against the touchscreen keyboard trying to stop the sequence of code which had suddenly invaded the display screen. Roy said something about 'aperture sequence' and then Alan was walking towards them, alarmed and shouting at both of them...

"_NO! Get away from the desk! It's too late, you can't stop it, get away from the desk!" _

...and naturally Tron had reacted from his first instinct, grabbing Roy from the chair and pulling him to stand, launching him towards Alan and pushing both of them protectively towards the stairwell. He took one step to follow, and then was frozen in place in a flash of white.

Now he was lying face down on the floor, blinking to consciousness.

The first thing he noticed was the distinct absence of dust, and the surface beneath his cheek was a pristine glossy black, not old gray speckled tile and concrete. He raised his head, slowly taking in the surroundings, and then climbed to stand, uneasiness creeping through his circuits. And then the realization set in - he had circuits again. They were brighter now than before, almost a bluish-white, but they were circuits. The same ones which had always adorned his suit.

The next instinct was to reach to his back, and sure enough somehow the disks were there too. The same two disks he'd had on his back when they'd all joined Kevin at the portal. The uneasiness washing over him turned to a sickly dread. He was back on the Grid. In the arcade simulation. Neither Alan nor Roy were in the room, and he knew without a doubt that Flynn and Clu were not upstairs...they were back in the User world arcade, with Alan and Roy.  
>He was all alone, in the very same treacherous system which they'd all been trying desperately to repair.<p>

He paced around the room, processing this, calculating just what to do next. A glance over at the empty interface desk filled him with even more despair. Without Flynn there, the interface was scarcely more than a decoy, a cold, still and useless artifact taking up space in the room. It would take the touch of a User to bring it to life. He walked to the interface, staring at it for several nanocycles and wishing he could will it into service just by staring at it.

If only he were a User.  
>No,...more than a User...if he were only a thing which Users called "God".<br>If only he could turn back time, or at least what the User world called 'time', back to the moments before the laser had sealed his fate.  
>If he had only known then what was about to happen, he wouldn't have dallied or tempted fate.<br>He would have grabbed them all and instantly jumped out of the way, joining Roy and Alan in the area of safety beyond the laser's reach.

But it was pointless to reflect upon what had happened.  
>What was done was done, and now he stood facing the gathering fact that he was trapped there with no discernible means of escape.<br>His only recourse was to exit the room, venture upstairs, and then walk out that front door into an unknown system, a desolate place which now offered more threat of deresolution than ever before.

Just then he heaved a sigh, knowing the action was simply an emulation of reality and not reality itself. No air moved through his lungs, because he didn't have lungs anymore. Once more, he only had circuits, and that was all. With a sad and almost hapless gesture, his gloved hands came to rest against the interface desk, fingertips absently brushing along its surface as he stared at the walls. And then he looked down, brows hitching upward and eyes flying open in surprise, staring at the small trails of light which followed the paths of his fingers and extended along the reflective onyx surface.

Reflexively, he drew back his hand.  
>The lines of light remained, slowly edging the shape of a rectangle where the touchscreen keypad should be.<br>What this meant, he wasn't sure. This had never happened before.

Cautiously he reached again, this time tentatively laying the full palm of his hand in the middle of the rectangle. And beneath his touch, the keypad touchscreen rezzed itself into existence. His glance trailed upward again, to see the display screen appearing in front of him as the entire interface desk came to illumined life. He stepped back, completely shocked and confused, suddenly unsteady on his feet and wishing in earnest that there were a chair he could sit down on.  
>And then suddenly there was the chair from across the room, rezzing to reposition itself just behind him.<p>

Slowly he lowered himself into the chair, still staring incredulously at the interface desk, and it took several nanocycles for him to fully realize what this meant.  
>He'd transcended the Grid to the User world, taking on the same human form that Kevin and Alan had.<br>Now digitized from there to here, there was only one explanation for this.

He was now _a User._

And of course - that's why his circuit colors had changed. He had become a User. The revelation filled him with both fear and joy all at once.  
>What to do now? He had no idea. There were few limits to what Users could do, he knew that much, and it seemed to have something to do with the User's touch combined with conscious thought, intent. Surely this meant he could somehow escape the Grid. But how? Were all Users able to leave the Grid with their disks once they'd rezzed in? Or was it only Kevin Flynn's disk which would allow one to leave?<p>

He needed answers. He stared at the interface...could he perhaps contact the User world, as Kevin had? If so, how, and what to type on the keys? How to send a message? That was something Kevin knew how to do, whereas he could scarcely type more than his name and designation number.

For several nanocycles he sat there, still stunned, and trying to think of something. Then he sifted through what memories of the Grid he still had, recalling when he'd last been here with Clu and Kevin...they'd communicated with Sam Flynn from here, and Sam had sent a message through Alan's pager to let them know it was him. There was a number which had meaning to Flynn, Alan and Sam. What was it?  
>His processors quickly returned the answer.<p>

He leaned forward, calculating with all of his might, pouring his willpower into his wish to reach the User world. And then he typed.

_07734 KEVIN FLYNN

_07734

_DESIGNATION JA307020

_TRON HERE

_07734

For several nanocycles he waited, hoping for a reply. But only a blinking cursor answered his hopes.  
>So he tried again, keeping his request to one line of text.<p>

_07734 KEVIN FLYNN

More waiting. And still nothing happened, aside from the blinking cursor. But then the screen wiped to blank, followed by new words appearing in red letters.

% - ILLEGAL COMMAND OR FILENAME - %

% - SYSTEM OVERRIDE; ERROR LOGGED - %

And then the screen returned to blank again.

Tron's eyes widened. Something had overridden his input. Which in his reasoning meant something in the system was more powerful than even a User now. Or at least equally powerful. And whatever it was had not only taken offense at the mention of Flynn's name, but had considered it an error and taken note of it.  
>He knew what that something was. <em>Master Control Program.<em> The former User that Flynn and Alan referred to as Dillinger. Which meant he'd be wise to either hide somewhere in the arcade, or vacate the premises altogether and get to the portal as quickly as he could.

He chose the latter.

Casting a glance down at the T-shaped lights and circuitry along the front of his illumined grid-suit, his calculations surged with a growing panic...he'd be the most identifiable program on the Grid. Now moreso than ever, since his circuit colors were that of a User. And if Kevin Flynn was now for some reason seen as some kind of outlaw then surely Tron, the program formerly known and feared as Rinzler, would be as well, whether he was a User now or not.

But just then a morsel of his meager memory drifted back to when Clu, Flynn and himself had last been here...there were small flat objects they had used to obscure their disk and circuit-lights - "hard-drive magnets", Flynn had called them. He spun around, eyes searching the small, empty room just as the familiar tall cabinet rezzed itself into existence against the far wall. Sure enough, there on the shelf where Flynn had left them were the small flat magnets. Tron grabbed them and then continued up the stairs.

Within a few more nanocycles he was bounding towards the front door.  
>But just as he was almost within reach of the door handle, suddenly he caught a glimpse of something just outside the window.<br>He dropped to the floor, quickly obscuring himself from sight and crawling over to the wall, then crouched there, staring up at the faint red glow which reflected against the simulated glass pane.  
>Very slowly he leaned forward towards the door, just enough to see what was casting the glow. Flinching slightly when he saw the familiar red circuitry, he stared at the arc of a disk at the program's back and the red lines along the skirted armored light-suit ...a sentry. One of the black guard. Standing there with its back to the entrance, only a few paces away from the entrance.<p>

Pressing closer to the glass and keening his glance around as best he could, Tron could see no other sentries in the immediate vicinity, which of course didn't mean they weren't there...it simply meant that if they were, they were beyond his line of sight.  
>He shrank back against the wall, pressing himself against the shadows there, and sat crouched in stillness, calculating. There was no way to determine what he'd be walking into if he opened that door. The thought of that sent a ripple of brightening apprehension through his circuitry. His gaze followed the bluish-white glow from his suit to the floor, where the sentry's crimson circuitry was reflected from just outside the door. Then it occurred to him - if he could see the glow from the sentry's light-suit, then the sentry could see the glow from his.<br>The magnets! – that was key. He needed to go ahead and attach them immediately. Reaching to the disks on his back he dislodged them, and then nervous, gloved hands fumbled with the magnets until he got them into the proper position on the disk just as Flynn had once done.

Returning the disks to the hub he waited, feeling the flicker before it happened, and then the lights of his suit extinguished. Relieved, he settled back against the wall, and sat in silent calculation, poring over his options, which were only two...he could either emerge from the front door and face whatever peril may lay in wait for him - which wasn't a very pleasant option - or he could remain there in darkness and motionless and eventually be discovered, which was an equally unpleasant option.

_Or,... perhaps with his newly-granted User powers he could somehow rezz an alternate door?_

The monitor thought for a moment, then slowly crept along the wall to the back of the room, disappearing through the doorway to the stairwell. He would try to make a door. Surely it couldn't be all that difficult, and, if his reckonings were correct, a door placed in this spot would lead him to the back lot of the arcade simulation. From there he could find a vantage point from which to assess the immediate vicinity.

Pressing his palm to the wall, he focused his thoughts and waited. But the only thing which happened was that a small glow spread around his hand on the surface of the wall, and then dissipated when he disengaged his hand.  
>He tried it again, and the same thing happened. Then relocating to try different spots on the wall, the same thing happened each time.<br>Finally he sighed, somewhat disheartened. No, this just wasn't going to work. He may have User powers now, but he wasn't a programmer. He couldn't create things. Only Flynn, Clu or Alan could do that. Without programming knowledge, the best he might be able to do would be to alter the structures within the existing system, which was why he'd been able to rezz the chair from across the room earlier...because the chair had existed to begin with, whereas a door in this wall, did not.

He sighed again. This left a singular option, with which he wasn't at all thrilled.  
>Slowly returning to the main room of the arcade simulation, he stood in the shadows, summoning his courage and leaning close to the wall. While nervously tapping his palms against the onyx bricks, his thoughts idly volunteered that this was where the Tron machine had been when Kevin had activated the room before. Then to his dismay, as if manifesting from his thoughts, the glow spread from his palms along the wall and the Tron machine rezzed right next to him, along with all of the other game machines in the room, filling the place with the ambient glow of new light.<p>

Tron grimaced, cursing in a whispered voice. "_...oh Users no!...no, no-no-no,...stop that!...go away!.."_

But the arsenal of games remained, and now there were no shadows in which he could stand in relative obscurity. His circuits teemed with dread and conflict. There was little doubt that once he went outside, with one glance the sentry would derezz him. And so it was either derezz or be destroyed. Self-preservation, self-defense.  
>Why that thought filled him with revulsion now, he wasn't sure. He had once been Rinzler. For many, many cycles conscienceless deresolution was a constant, a given, a thing which he'd done mindlessly as part of his programming.<p>

And then, the realization - _aha! Rinzler!  
><em>  
>Rinzler would not be seen as an interloper, would he? At least, not by a sentry. Surely not.<br>And while his Rinzler coding was gone - a wretched specter of the past which he would never revisit again - with his new User skills the matter of changing the colors of his circuitry back to Rinzler's was most likely a simple matter.  
>It was worth a try.<br>And then if the guard saw what appeared to be Rinzler and then still attempted to derezz him, he would do what he had to do to save his own life.  
>It was better than staying put and doing nothing, which would essentially be suicidal.<p>

But he had to act now, because if that sentry turned around, he knew he would be fully visible in the newly illuminated room full of simulated game machines. Whisking the disks from his back he removed the magnets from them, then stood trying to recall and visualize what Clu had once done to alter their appearances when they'd entered the game arena. It took only a couple of movements to raise the glowing three-dimensional schematic of his own likeness, and nervously he reached a finger towards the helix formation there.

Then he hesitated...one wrong move with the coding and he could likely do something very stupid to himself.  
>But shouldn't it be a simple matter? He could visualize what his Rinzler suit had looked like...the same as this one, but with it's fiery orange-red lines instead of the bluish-white... and so, surely from there it was just one simple change which would be needed.<br>Yet he had no idea which of the myriad of loops, lines and tiny nodes represented the code for that simple change.

Hesitating only a nanocycle more, he touched the edge of the helix, but then just gave up. It was too much of a risk, because while visualizing Rinzler's circuitry was one thing, altering code to create it was another. He simply didn't know what he was doing, and he didn't want to bring damage to himself by trying to find out. So he closed the disk function menu, and replaced both disks to his back.

Then to his surprise, instantly the red-orange glow spread across his circuits. He smiled, surprised. Well, that was easy after all.  
>...s<em>ome things are simply a matter of thought... <em>

It was eerie and unsettling to once again look down and see the angry red-orange glow trailing along his suit, but he was still Tron, and he knew that. And right now, Tron needed to act fast. There was no more room for hesitation. He fought for the Users, protected them,...and this time, the User he would have to protect was himself.  
>And so with swift quiet steps he crept along the wall again, keeping his gaze glued to the sentry. Reaching for his disks, he gathered them into one hand, and then opened the door with the other, stepping outside and walking forward to stand just past the column where two arched alcoves were conjoined.<p>

The sentry registered the movement almost immediately, turning and raising the light staff. Then the black helmet tilted slightly, and the guard lowered the staff somewhat as he took in the sight of the very familiar red-trimmed program which stood before him. Clearly he was conflicted as to directive, at least, for the immediate moment.

Tron stood riveted in place, both hands gripping the disks now.  
>His steeled gaze bore into the opaque face plate of the ominous black helmet, and in his hazel eyes was the implied question.<br>_...are you going to let me go?...or are you going to attack me?..._

The guard hesitated only another nanocycle, and then raised the staff, once more, this time keeping it poised to attack. Tron's grip steadied on the disks, answering wordlessly with only a raise of the eyebrow as his frown deepened with gathering intensity to match his set jaw.  
><em>...that's what I thought!...<em>

When the sentry took the first lunge toward him, the next few nanocycles became a blur of red-orange circuitry in motion...Tron turned and darted for the column, literally running up the side of it and defying gravity for a few steps, until he pushed off of it and arched his body tumbling through the air, finally landing behind the sentry in a crouch, arms spread wide and a disk in either hand.

The surprised guard was turning to attack again, but it was too late...Tron was already whirling into a parkour turn, leg swinging around to knock the light staff away with his foot, then he swept both arms together, bringing his disks right through the center of the sentry program's armor.  
>There was a shower of glowing red pixels, and then only shimmering bits of data were left to dissipate slowly along the ground.<br>The light staff followed suit a nanocycle later, fizzling into nothingness where it had fallen.

Tron wasn't about to wait around for more guards to follow, and if this hostile system no longer wanted it's former Grid warrior and erstwhile hero, then so be it.  
>His place was with Kevin Flynn and Alan One anyway, protecting them in the User world.<br>He yanked the baton from its place at his thigh, clicking it open as he ran, and the light-cycle rezzed around him.  
>In a blaze of crimson-amber light he took off, and he wasn't planning on stopping until he reached the Sea of Simulation. Then he would rezz a light-jet, and make it to the portal.<p> 


	30. Chapter 30

The Grid

* * *

><p>The solitary light-jet soared over dismal uncertain landscapes. He was alone in the skies. In fact, by his calculations, Tron couldn't remember a time when he'd ever felt so alone in all the many cycles of his life.<p>

Not that he could recall much from those cycles anyway...thanks to the combined assaults to his processors - the coup, the re-purposing, the sea of simulation, and the system's reintegration - he was left with only choppy segments of discordant memory, mere fragments to go by, each out of sequence and unstuck in time, each trailing off to nowhere like broken code, the strands of which when strung together might as well have been the pages of a fantasy book or the jumbled remembrances from some other program's life.  
>But it was just as well.<br>Because _his life_, or that which he now counted as such, had begun when Kevin and the reformed Clu had rescued him and rebooted him, when they'd all teamed up with Alan-One and found haven in the real world - the User world – a world which, though no less real than the Grid, was infinitely safer and more pleasant.

Oh how he missed that world now.  
>The world which for a brief time had become his. As awkward as he'd felt at first when trying to find his place, trying to understand and assimilate the strange ways of the User world, Tron missed it so desperately now. He missed the company of his friends', just the simple comfort of their voices speaking to him, just the way they'd smile and make him feel at home, even the annoying Bit and the barking little wiggly creature Sam called 'Marvin'...he missed them. He missed them all. He missed the blessed peace of knowing that to them he wasn't Rinzler, and that to them he was more than just the hero of the Grid too...he was respected, trusted, cared for, welcomed, esteemed, loved.<p>

Now on the Grid once again, he had none of that. Not anymore.

What spanned below him now through the clouds was only the promise of treachery and the constant threat of de-resolution in an unstable system. He once would have fought it, braved it, stormed it triumphantly with both disks and a vengeance unmatched by any other program on the Grid.  
>But now, he wanted only to reach the portal and escape...to be back with Kevin, Alan and the rest of his friends, standing alongside them in the User word, to fight a fight which might make a difference, because there was clearly no way to fight for the Users here on the Grid...or at least, not to do so and survive it.<p>

He looked up ahead, his circuits practically humming with desperate hope and uneasy anticipation as he took in the sight on the horizon...the portal beam in the distance.  
>There it was. His survival. His saving grace.<p>

It was just a matter of microcycles now until he reached the portal platform, and he was already almost across the Sea of Simulation now. With a glance at the waters, he shivered at the one fleeting memory which would forever be unmarred in his mind - _the crash into the Sea...he'd been piloting his light-jet and trying to fight off Clu, and then suddenly he was tumbling into the waters as foreign data infused his processors with incompatible code, seeping in and scrambling his subroutines as he sank deeper into the unforgiving depths. And then everything had faded to black. The next thing he knew, he'd awakened in the arcade simulation, a blank void where his memory allotments and subroutines should have been._

Now as he navigated along, he shook off the memory and banished it from his processors, refusing to look down or acknowledge the murky, ever-present waters which seemed to lay in wait for him to fall. The Sea of Simulation was a horrifying and mystifying experience, one which he intended to never revisit again. Shaking off the unpleasant and bleak reminiscence, he focused his processors again on the portal platform ahead, and began the descent to land.

A few microcycles later, he was climbing the last of the exhaustive steps to the portal and removing the disk from his back.  
>With urgency in his steps, he walked all the way down the narrow causeway, and stepped into the impossibly bright pillar of light which intersected the platform. Just as he'd watched Kevin do before, he held the disk aloft, waiting for it to take float and bring on the brilliant flash which would carry him to safety.<p>

But as he stood there, nothing happened.

He waited and waited, but still nothing. And then as he looked across the ominous skies, the faint crimson glow of light-jets in the distance chilled his circuits.

There was little choice of what to do, and he sure wasn't going to stand there and be assaulted by whatever uncertain onslaught was headed his way.  
>Replacing the disk to his back, he grabbed the light-baton once more, holding it at the ready and then retreating quickly along the platform, ducking into the shadows, watching and waiting as the craft approached.<p>

* * *

><p>Los Angeles<br>Flynn's Arcade  
>: : : : : : : : : : :<p>

If there was a single shred of Zen left within his frustrated frame, Kevin wasn't in touch with it at the moment.

Uttering a stream of swear-words under his breath that would make even a sailor blush, he stomped over to the laser, bent down and yanked the power cord from the outlet, and then flung the cord angrily away, off towards the corner of the room where it ricocheted off the wall and then clanged unceremoniously against the metal shelving before falling to the floor like a lifeless snake.

Exhaling a huff of complete exasperation, he ran a hand through disheveled hair and turned around, to see Alan, Roy and Clu looking back at him, somewhat taken aback. He just shook his head, sighed again, then pointed at the stilled and non-operational machinery, eyes intense and brows hitching into a frown as he nearly bellowed.

"_Yeah- THIS? ...this thing's done here, man! ... DONE!"_

He shook his head again, walking slowly towards the interface desk, giving a mirthless half-chuckle as he raised both arms and then dropped them to his sides. He crossed his arms, reigning in his frustration with a clenched jaw, only to explode again a second later, gesturing with his hands and pacing, while the three others stood mutely watching the meltdown that was about twenty-one years past due.

"_You know what?...just-...to hell with this laser and the digital frontier! I'm finished with watching this thing just-... just-...rewrite its own freaking-...programming...and then taking control over our lives-...it's not happening anymore, man! NOT happening! NOT ANYMORE!"_

Punctuating his words with a hiss of a sigh, Kevin ceased his ranting, but continued to pace, silently fuming like a lit fuse.

Alan sighed, brow knitting with concern and the stress of it all. He'd seen Kevin like this only once before in the almost thirty years they'd known each other. It was the sheer diametric-opposite of the man's normally easygoing demeanor, and Alan knew from experience that the best way to handle it was to simply give his friend a few seconds to calm down, because trying to do otherwise would be like trying to hogtie the Tasmanian devil in mid-whirl.

And so Alan stood there, arms crossed, waiting. Clu stared at Kevin and opened his mouth to speak, but the look of warning the older programmer shot him silenced him instantly. Roy already knew better than to try disarming Flynn when he was in this state, and so he simply stood staring off at the floor. When almost a full minute had passed, Alan finally spoke, his voice low and definitely calmer than any of them felt inside.

"_It's going to be alright. We're going to bring Tron back from this, Kevin."_

After a slow exhaled sigh and several long moments' pause to center himself, Kevin finally looked over at them and spoke. His voice was lowered now, but the tone of grave concern and powerlessness was unmistakable.

"_I have absolutely no idea how to do that, Alan. No idea at all."_

Alan simply nodded, and didn't speak right away. He was about to answer when the sound of his cell phone ringing startled him. Reaching into his pocket with a sigh, he was expecting the caller to be Sam. Then glancing at the lighted screen he frowned, definitely not expecting the number which showed on the caller I.D.

Puzzled, he glanced up at Kevin in surprise. "_Junior."_

And then he pressed the talk button, unprepared for the shaky, somewhat distraught sound of Ed Dillinger's voice on the other end of the line.

"_Alan...it's Ed-...uh,...Ed Junior...um,..."_

The shaky voice paused, drawing in an even shakier breath, and immediately Alan looked at Kevin with a raised eyebrow. He switched the cell to speakerphone setting, then stood holding it in front of him as he spoke.

_"Hello. What can I do for you?" _

Alan paused, but no reply came right away. He frowned again and continued, trying to sound casual. _"...Ed?...Everything alright?"_

"_No. No, not really,...I- uh,..."_

The young man paused, and the uncharacteristically distressed waver in his voice had already gotten Kevin's attention as well as Alan's. When he spoke again, they all three stared at each other, listening over the speakerphone as Ed Junior stammered in urgent tones.

"_I-...we-...we have to talk, Alan. I think-...I think you may need my help, and...I need to talk to you. I need to talk to you and-...to Flynn."_

Alan's eyes widened almost to disbelief, then he shook his head as he stared at Kevin and then at Roy. Gone was Junior's usual smooth soft-spoken tone of superiority. There was fear in the young man's choppy voice instead. And Alan knew, just knew in his gut, that by "Flynn", Junior wasn't referring to _Sam_ Flynn.

"_What?...What's going on, Ed?"_

Alan was alarmed but kept his voice as calm as he could. Just as he finished speaking, on the other end of the line there was an interruption of static and the sound of a large motor vehicle, which he found odd seeing as how he could feel the rumble in the concrete floor beneath his feet at the exact same time...from the vibrations in the building's foundation it felt as though a huge 18-wheeler was driving past out on the street. He frowned, eying the phone suspiciously, and then spoke to Junior again.

"_Ed? ... Where are you?"_

The shaky voice answered him, almost forlornly.

"_Standing at the front door of the arcade. Please let me in."_

: : : : : : :


	31. Chapter 31  Finale

_Los Angeles  
>ENCOM Tower<em>

* * *

><p>Kevin stood next to Alan, watching intently as Junior booted up the incredibly complex computer equipment housed in the tiny room of his second floor office. The renovated space which was once a simple coat closet now resembled an elaborate miniature Shiva laser lab, with equipment towers which reached nearly to the ceiling.<p>

While the others watched the younger Dillinger, Clu stood a few feet away in the main portion of Junior's office, glancing around the expansive space. The tension in the silent room was almost a visible mist, though as he thought back over the past hours, things now were considerably less tense than the previous two hours had been...

_...after the initial confrontation at the arcade, which in itself was surreal, it had been mutually decided that it was time to confront Junior about his forays into the Grid, to find out how he'd accomplished it, and to find out whether his claims to want to help them were for real. But as they had questioned him, it appeared that Junior was for real. With genuine emotion in his face and voice, the younger Dillinger had looked first at Kevin, then at Alan, then at Roy, and then in a shaky voice had spoken in almost a whisper, his ice-blue eyes glistening with tears. __"The Grid...the MCP...h___e'___s-...it's-...it's not my father...not anymore. It's just a program, but,...with no form, no soul. Vast. Powerful. Too powerful."_

_The young man had then shifted in the chair nervously, looking down at the floor furtively as though expecting to be somehow punished for what he'd said. Alan and Kevin had cast wary glances at each other… just what had prompted this radical change of heart in the previously conniving young programmer was unclear, but it was clear that Junior was not only contrite but afraid. Really afraid. That was just about the time when a very concerned Sam had burst through the door after having gotten Alan's phone call, at which point Kevin and Alan had actually had to physically restrain him to keep him from attacking Edward Dillinger Jr. on sight. Even after they'd calmed him, Sam had remained angry and suspicious, bitterness and distrust evident on his features, but Kevin had convinced him to just remain calm and hear the young Dillinger's story. _

_Once they'd all been able to listen and to rationally discuss things, remaining focused on the fact that saving Tron and retrieving him from the Grid was the foremost combined objective, the next step was to agree to set aside past differences for the moment, and to take a trip to Junior's office at Encom. That would allow the young man to demonstrate fully just what the status quo of the Grid system had now become under the rule of what had once been his father's consciousness. Their excursion to the Encom Tower had been necessary because Kevin had flatly refused to even consider the dangers of reactivating the laser at the arcade or patching his machine into Encom's servers via the web. And so with Quorra, Sam and Roy staying behind to keep watch over the arcade in the event Tron happened to 'rez back there during their transit to Encom, Alan had driven the rest of them to the corporate offices, with Junior in the back seat, and Clu seated across from him, watching the young man's every move in case he tried to bolt. Kevin had ridden in the passenger's seat, and all of them had sat raptly listening to "the rest of the story" from Junior, a story which bordered on more far-fetched science fiction than even the Grid presented - the convoluted almost unbelievable details of what had brought them all, and the Grid, to this point ..._

_: : _

Now they were in Ed Dillinger Junior's office at the Encom Tower.  
>It had been a total of nearly three hours since Tron had 'rezzed in to the Grid.<br>Junior now sat at the tiny computer desk in his small lab, his previous unrest having calmed to almost an emotionless demeanor as he sat focused and staring at the strings of code on the monitor screen. Kevin and Alan still watched him from the doorway, and the foremost unspoken question between them all was now whether or not one of them would or should go to the Grid to rescue Tron.

Clu paced slowly back and forth in the office, restless and waiting silently. After a few moments, he stopped pacing and stood looking idly at the bookshelves, suddenly noticing that Junior had a small familiar object sitting next to a stack of books...it was a silver polyhedral which closely resembled the Bit. Walking to the shelf, he retrieved a nearly identical object from his jacket pocket, stared at it, and then looked again at the bit model on the shelf, finally smirking smugly to himself. The bit model belonging to Junior was impressive and clean in its design, but he liked his version of the Bit much better. Because it made noises and could answer 'yes' or 'no'. Just then, he pressed the small plane among its facets and was met with an instant, _"ploink-ploink"_ sound. A 'yes'. And then he grinned, because apparently the Bit agreed with his opinion of it.

At the sound, Kevin eyed Clu with a raised eyebrow, and Clu sheepishly returned the Bit to his jacket pocket, walking over to stand quietly beside Kevin. Seemingly oblivious to the electronic chirping or anything else, Junior still sat analyzing codes. And then he finally spoke, still staring at the monitor screen.

"_Okay. That's what I was afraid of. So..." _

_Then _he paused, drawing in a long sigh, and finally turned away from the computer screen to look at Kevin as he continued.

_"...so, I'll go get Tron myself, and bring him back."_

Both Kevin and Alan stared at him, obvious alarm and reservations on their faces. Junior responded with a sigh, still looking up at Kevin. _"Look, it's not a problem. ___I___ can do it. But, I'm going to need your help. Both you and Clu, so that if-"_

"_ NO! " _Alan interrupted immediately, casting the glare first at Junior, and then at his old friend, who, much to Alan's shock, had seemed actually vaguely curious about the notion.

"_You are NOT going back to the Grid, Flynn! __Absolutely not! Out of the question!__" _The older programmer stood with arms crossed, glaring at the young Encom employee.

Junior just cleared his throat, then continued in a soft voice as he looked back at Alan. _"That's ... actually not what I meant. What I meant was, I just need his and Clu's guidance while I'm on the Grid. As backup, from here."_

That statement prompted puzzled looks from not just Alan, but Kevin and Clu as well. The obvious unvoiced question between them being, how were they expected to be of help - what could any of them possibly do to help from here, especially since the Grid had now become infinitely more complex and treacherous than ever before?

Alan stared at Junior for a few seconds, then with eyes narrowing he finally gave voice to what they were all thinking. _"And just how is that supposed to happen, Ed? __The Grid isn't even Flynn's system anymore, so aside from the still-pertinent question of 'why should we trust you' ... how can he, or any of us for that matter, give you guidance once you're on the Grid? And IF as you say, it's 'not a problem', then why would you even need our guidance?"_

Junior smoothed a hand through his hair, then adjusted his glasses and sat back in the chair, not certain of where to begin with the answer.

_"Okay, ... ___Fly___nn knows the system intricately as its original creator, and Clu does too, as its admin. The Grid underpinnings are still basically the same as before. The MCP knows my weaknesses and strategies, may try to block me, change things up. But, with backup I could override it, and more easily think on my feet .. .and, ..."_

Pausing, Junior looked at the other three men. Clu and Kevin wore questioning looks, but Alan's intense, no-nonsense stare indicated that he still hadn't heard a sufficient answer to any of his questions yet and that he wasn't going to be patient for much longer.

Junior shrugged, launching into the remainder of the rather far-fetched, rambling explanation as calmly as he could. _"It's __experimental tech, but, before I digitize in, I can try to create a neural link, from here to the Grid, through the computer. Between Kevin, Clu, and, me. And if so then the two of them can guide me."_

Alan had thus far stood listening with narrowed eyes and a cynical smirk, but now he uncrossed his arms and interrupted the younger Dillinger as he looked back and forth from him to Kevin with an incredulous expression.

_"Oh for crying out loud! T___hat's-___ ... that's not even possible! Flynn, I told you, he's just playing games!"_

Kevin just shook his head, still staring at Junior curiously with a raised eyebrow for several tense moments. Then he narrowed his eyes and glanced at Alan.

"_No, I don't think he is, Alan. I think he's being real about this. It's like I told Sam before, ... our worlds are more connected than anyone knows."_

Junior just looked at the two of them with a droll expression and then nodded. "_Whether or not it will actually work, I don't know. But it's worth a try. Like I said, it's still in development."_

"_In-...in development?..."_ Alan paused, shaking his head. Then he just stared at the young man incredulously, the corners of his mouth tugging into a mirthless smile to match his intense glare.

"_WHY, ... in God's name, ... have you been developing THIS, ... HERE, ... at Encom, of all pl-" _

The older programmer stopped mid-sentence, biting back his words, clenching his jaw and hissing a frustrated sigh, then just shook his head. He closed his eyes, ran a hand across his very tense brow, trailed it down to cover his mouth with the heel of his hand, and then stood silently fuming for a few seconds. Then he finally opened his eyes again, rocked back onto his heels, crossed his arms, and stared back at Junior, continuing in a curt voice as though it were taking all of his reserve to remain calm with the rogue Encom employee.

"_You know what? Never mind. I don't want to know why. Not right now. Right now I just want you to do whatever it is you can do, and get my program back. Here. In one piece. Alive. If you can do that, then do it. Please."_

Junior just nodded, calmly looking at the older man. With that, Alan turned to lean against the door-facing, and stared at the floor, jaw slowly un-clenching again, cheeks still reddened with the receding flush of anger he was forcing away. After a few more seconds of tense silence, Kevin looked from him to Junior and sighed.

"_Alright. So, yeah, tell us what this will involve." _He glanced over at Clu, who nodded slowly in agreement.

Alan just continued staring at the floor while Junior launched into the convoluted explanation. As he spoke, the younger Dillinger opened a drawer, retrieving two devices which resembled elaborate headsets with small electrodes attached to them. Looking up again suddenly, Alan frowned in disbelief at the sight - the headsets looked like a combination of a miner's hat and some type of mad scientist's laboratory device. That plus the whole idea in general seemed exorbitantly bizarre and risky to him, and the notion of Junior playing around with such technology under the radar at Encom just incensed him all over again. But one patient look from Kevin wordlessly implored Alan to shelve his anger, and so he did. He simply walked a few feet away into the office and stood listening while Junior continued explaining as concisely as he could as to how this process could be accomplished and what he thought their strategies should be.

: :

_Ten minutes later..._

Alan stood watching as Kevin was being fitted with one of the headsets. With the contraption on his head, Kevin looked a little like an extra from a B-rated science-fiction film. Alan crossed his arms, and smirked at his old friend.

"_Flynn,... just out of curiosity, ... what part of this plan doesn't seem nuts to you?"_

Kevin just shook his head, shrugging again with a wry grin. _"No more nuts than the Grid is, I guess___. Besides, ... you got a better idea, Bradley?"__

Alan just stared back at him, because, as a matter of fact, he didn't have a better idea. Finally he rolled his eyes and uncrossed his arms, looking up at the small monitor above the interface desk which showed a wire-frame graph of real time activity. Then the two of them watched as a lighted cursor point spiked through the peaks and valleys which monitored the neural link. Meanwhile Junior kept typing at the keyboard touchscreen, and soon it was Clu's turn to be fitted with a headset. Alan and Kevin watched as the young man secured the electrodes around Clu's forehead. Then after a few more keyboard commands, Junior looked up first at Kevin, then at Clu.

_"Welcome aboard."  
><em>  
>After the initial wave of disorientation and the strange sensation of his hair standing on end, the first thing Kevin noticed was the pain.<br>Not a pain of the physical, but of the psyche ... a low simmering, dormant pain, pressed far back into the consciousness as though it had been there since childhood, long ignored, minimized, shelved away. But it was there, unmistakeably. And it shocked him. How had he not been aware of it until now?  
>It took him a few seconds more to center himself, to clear his head, to try to embrace the pain, to rise above it and find out what it was about. And once he did so, the remainder of the mental disorientation scattered and it became very clear that <em>it wasn't even his pain<em>. And of course it wasn't his doppelganger's, the former program who stood next to him in the small room now grasping the edge of the door-facing and staring pensively into space.  
>No, this pain didn't belong to him or to Clu. It belonged to Edward Dillinger Junior.<br>Now Kevin stood steadying his breath, his next thoughts settling into compassion.  
><em>...my God, how has he lived with this for so long?...<br>...I wonder, does he even know it's there?..._

But if Junior did know the pain was there, he sure didn't show any signs of it. Instead he remained calmly fixated on the monitor screen, typing in commands as coolly as though he did this kind of thing every day. From what Kevin could discern, he was setting up a string of commands which would add parameters to the link and function as some type of firewall.

Kevin watched Junior a moment more, then glanced over at Clu, who was visibly agitated. With jaw clenched, Clu still grasped the edge of the door-frame with a hand which was now white-knuckled from the grip. His other hand wandered to the band of electrodes touching his forehead and temples. He blinked and looked up at Kevin, a mixture of anguish and confusion on his furrowed brow.

"_Kevin, … what - ... what IS this?"_ His face was stern, but his voice almost broke with emotion as he spoke.

Alan stopped pacing, walked to the doorway again, and stared back and forth between them both, alarmed. But Kevin just gave a soft nod, and with a compassionate, knowing look he gazed back at the younger eyes which mirrored his own. Then patting Clu gently on the shoulder, he leaned in closer to him and nodded towards Junior who sat at the computer desk with his back to both of them.

"_It's okay, Clu. It's not you. This is kinda' what happens when we remove ourselves from the equation. When we put ourselves in someone else's shoes."_

Clu gave a somewhat tense nod of understanding. But hearing his own words as he spoke them, Kevin gave a slight wince, suddenly wanting to chastise himself for using not one but two glib clichés in the same sentence, especially to describe an empathic response to someone's existential pain. Then to his amazement, a second later Clu blandly voiced basically the very same thought with a wry smirk.

"_Kevin, … are you aware you just used two cliches in the same sentence?"_

Kevin nodded, chuckling softly, and shot back a smirk at Clu. _"Yeah. Are you aware you just sorta read my mind?"_

Clu's eyes widened somewhat, but then he grinned and quirked his head to the side, bemused. _"Nah. Probably just a lucky guess. I do know you pretty well, Kevin."_

Kevin crossed his arms and grinned, chuckling. "_Yeah, you do, buddy. Still, just to be on the safe side, remind me not to think back to my junior high school days while I've got this gnarly hat on. One glimpse of the teenaged me and you'll be wishin' you looked like somebody way the heck more cool."_

This brought a grin to Clu's face, and he relaxed a bit more. Kevin chuckled again, noticing that Junior was still typing commands and wasn't really listening to either of them. But as the younger man typed, Kevin continued to watch him, suddenly realizing his previous awareness of Junior's pain had dissipated completely. With whatever code parameters the young Dillinger was writing, he'd somehow managed to instantly do what it had taken Kevin twenty-one years of Zen meditation to learn to accomplish the old-fashioned way - Junior had either quieted his own psyche or else shielded it from their perception altogether, or both.  
>At that realization, Kevin mused silently and somewhat sadly, to himself as he adjusted the headset which pressed into his forehead and temples.<br>_...mental firewalls...  
><em>__...digital Zen...___  
>...radical...<em>

Alan still stood glancing back and forth between Clu and Kevin. Then with a raised eyebrow and a skeptical smirk, he looked across at Junior, who sat typing at the keyboard touchscreen. _"Okay, Doctor Who,...when do we get to the part where we rescue Tron?__"_

Junior didn't reply right away, and just then Clu interrupted abruptly, redirecting them slightly. "_Dillinger, is the arcade simulation still the entry point for the Grid?"_

Still busily typing away at the keys, Junior answered, sounding somewhat distracted. "_By default, yes, ... but... since the entry point is shut down at the arcade right now, its probably best to reset it to another sector so I can 'rez in closer to the portal."_

At that remark, Kevin raised an eyebrow. _"Reset it? That isn't supposed to be possible."_

Junior looked up at him. _"It wasn't, before. But, we changed it."_

Kevin crossed his arms, feeling somewhat territorial about what was once _his_ Grid. He nodded and gave a slightly-pained smirk. _"I see."_

Clu interjected again just then, looking first at the clock on the wall, and then at Kevin. "_He'd be near the portal by now, wouldn't he? Unless..."_

His voice trailing off, Clu's brow knotted with the sudden worries which had accumulated in his thoughts. Kevin immediately picked up on the thoughts and gave Clu a reassuring nod. "_No, man, ... no, he's okay. Tron's a fighter. He'll make it. "_

Kevin paused, his own brow knotting with worry. Alan glanced at him, and although he couldn't read his friend's thoughts, a lifetime of knowing Kevin Flynn so very well enabled him to know just what his and Clu's worried expressions meant. The older programmer looked at Junior with concern.

"_Tron's a User now. If he's reached the portal, he should have been able to leave the Grid."_

Junior shook his head. "_Theoretically yes, but, in this case no. That's what I was about to explain to you before, when I told you I wanted you to function as backup, ... because he's-" _

Pausing, Junior caught himself and re-phrased, _"... Master Control, is changing things around in response to everything that happens. Upping the ante. Such as, Tron 'rezzed into the Grid, and now the portal isn't responding to Tron's disk as a User. Apparently Tron's permissions have been changed. He's made it to the portal. He just can't get through."_

Kevin frowned and was about to ask how Junior knew that, but just then Alan's brows dipped into a frown again as he spoke.

_"Okay then, … so what happens if you get onto the Grid, find Tron, and then the MCP changes things up again or closes the portal and neither one of you can get back out? What about that?"_

Junior finished typing a set of commands, and the familiar aperture setup splayed across the monitor screen. He shook his head again, still as calm as ever.

"_Not possible. Long story, but, my disk has irrevocable Creator permissions. And if the MCP tries closing the portal, Flynn can reverse that from right here at this console and open a portal manually. That's why I wanted to link up, to communicate with each other. Because to get me and Tron out of __there, depending on what else he tries, you might end up having to fight him step by step. Basically a chess game."_

Kevin raised an eyebrow, looking at Alan, and then Clu, and then back at Junior. _"Now __**that**__ we can do."_

The laser sequence was booting up, and Junior stood up from the chair, offering it to Flynn. _"Well, in that case, ... ready to get started?"_

Kevin nodded, then cast the younger Dillinger a stern look. _"Yeah. But don't go pulling something stupid and getting yourself stuck there. I don't wanna' have to come in after you..." _He paused, nodding towards Alan, _"...and he isn't gonna' let me do that anyway." _

_"Yes, I get that. But don't worry, I'll be fine." _Junior smirked at the older programmer, then looked back at Kevin as he stood up and started towards the doorway. "_I'm just going to grab a chair so you and Clu can sit while I'm on the Grid. It may take awhile."_

A few more seconds and the young man had brought in one of the guest chairs from his office, positioning it in the small space next to the desk chair where Kevin now sat. As Clu settled into the chair, Junior turned and walked to the far end of the small room, placing his feet within the small square which was marked on the floor with tape. He crossed his arms, adjusted his glasses, brushed the hair back from his forehead and gave a small nod, waiting rather nonchalantly.

Kevin looked at Edward Dillinger Junior for a moment, suddenly gripped by the surreal ironies of it all, not the least of which being that the son of his former nemesis was about to 'rez into the Grid to save his friend Tron's life. But what was more, ... it was clear that Ed Dillinger Junior had become quite a veteran at 'rezzing in to the Grid, and certainly appeared to be more calm and fearless about the process than he himself had been so many years ago. Back in the way-back, even after having 'rezzed in to the Grid many times, even after penning The Digital Frontier, and even after standing at a podium and telling a massive stadium audience that "in there, is our future, … inwardly Kevin had still always had that same flutter of nervous energy right before each digitization, a small wave of preternatural reticence borne of his respect for something so much more vast and complex than he or his generation had ever fathomed before. And now, watching how casually Junior stood before the laser, he couldn't help but marvel at yet another difference between the then and the now - _the youth of today were already aware that "in there is our future", and they were unafraid to meet it, to forward into it._ Somehow, after everything which had happened on the Grid, all the mistakes and all the years in exile, this made Kevin Flynn smile to think that in some small way he really had been a pioneer of this new frontier, and had paved the way for the next generation to forward it fearlessly.

Kevin snapped out of the nostalgic thoughts, and looked back at the monitor, and sat leaning over the console, which not surprisingly looked just like his own at the arcade. With a few keyboard commands he had initiated the aperture sequence, then the familiar question appeared next to the blinking cursor onscreen. He looked across at Junior, who simply nodded again, so Kevin typed a "Y".  
>A second later, the brilliant beam of light scanned Ed Dillinger's slight, lanky form into the Grid, leaving no trace of him in the tiny renovated lab.<p>

: :

_Forty-five minutes later..._

Kevin and Clu sat in the tiny room next to the computer desk, each wearing the headsets, each with eyes closed and occasionally verbalizing whatever they were "visualizing" as Junior experienced it on the Grid. Clu having followed Kevin's suggestion of joining in a semi-meditative state so they could more effectively concentrate and track Junior's movements, the two of them were actively involved with navigating Junior.

Alan stood at the doorway watching the entire process. At first it had seemed like Kevin and Clu were simply playing some really odd game of word-association with their eyes closed, but then after a while things had become very intense, with each of them half-shouting input as they'd helped Junior negotiate through what sounded like a challenging and deadly light-jet chase over the Sea of Simulation. That was when Alan knew this was indeed for real, and that the link was apparently working. From there he'd observed more intently while they continued the treacherous navigation, stepping in to watch more closely as Kevin reached to the interface console, entered some code quickly and then returned to sit back in the chair, closing his eyes once more. At that point Alan knew the chess game was indeed on - his longtime friend and the former Grid Creator had just had to do what he did best - to think on the fly, writing code in order to undo whatever the Master Control Program had been doing to try to block them.

A few more minutes passed, and Alan continued observing the proceedings, which for the most part was basically just standing there watching as Kevin and Clu sat frowning with closed eyes, each of them calling out random, frantic ideas here and there as they tried to help Junior rescue Tron from the Grid.  
>Apparently Junior and Tron had in fact made it to the portal, but were being repeatedly intercepted, and the suspense of it was starting to fray Alan at the seams. Because for him this wasn't just a case of waiting on the sidelines - it was infuriatingly-tense waiting on the sidelines with someone's life at stake, that someone being Tron. And that, coupled with a looming, maddening sense of powerlessness and potential defeat every time the MCP blocked progress, had Alan feeling more and more unsettled beneath what was left of his characteristically stoic exterior. As he thought about it, this process was something akin to the stress of standing by and waiting during childbirth, but this stress was far worse than waiting for the birth of his son had been all those years ago, even considering Lora's twenty-four hours of labor - Jet Bradley had taken his sweet time arriving, and Alan had worried himself nearly sick just as any father would, but back then there hadn't had been some maniacal, invisible, pervasive force trying its best to keep his child from being born.<p>

Finally after a few more moments, Alan decided he couldn't just stand still any longer, because he was about to go out of his skin. He'd made it about three steps into the main portion of the office and was about to start pacing nervously across the floor when Clu's sudden loud voice yelled out, startling him.

"_KEVIN!"_

Alan jumped and whirled around again to see Clu sitting, eyes still closed, bellowing as though he were calling out to Kevin from fifty feet away over strong winds, not from a chair less than a foot across from him in a tiny office.

"KEVIN, ARE YOU SURE?"

Somehow unfazed by the outburst, Kevin answered softly. _"Shh, ...Clu,... 'don't have to yell, buddy, I'm right here. But yeah, I'm sure. Remember the dream?"_

With eyes closed, Clu nodded wordlessly. Alan looked over at Kevin, who now sat in the chair with eyes closed and his arms were outstretched. In the chair next to Kevin, Clu mirrored the gesture. Walking closer, Alan stared at them both ... until now, the tactical moves they'd been narrating made sense, but this certainly didn't. He stopped to stand right beside Kevin's chair, and stood staring back and forth between the two of them, watching as both Kevin and Clu lurched forward in their chairs, their eyes still closed in deep concentration and their arms reaching toward each other.

Suddenly, Clu's eyes flew open, his face the picture of complete unmitigated terror. _"NO! I can't, Kevin! I can't go through this again! I can't! Stop this! Please stop this!"_

And with that, Clu was yanking the headset from his head, shaking and stumbling as he stood up from the chair.

"_Clu,... man,... hang on...it's okay,...just hang on,...need your help with this, buddy..." _Kevin's voice was still very calm, so focused it was almost trance-like, and he didn't open his eyes.

Clu looked over at Alan, his face full of anguish as he tried to speak but his voice was a panicked whisper . Tears flooded his eyes and he shook his head, trying to choke out the words through a clenched jaw. "_I'm... sorry-... I can't-" _

Alan jumped into action.  
>Placing a hand on Clu's shoulder, he nodded and reached to remove the headset from his frantic grasp, then he gently moved the younger man aside, quickly taking his place in the chair. He positioned the headset onto his own head and locked eyes with Clu, hoping something in his glance was reassuring, though he had no idea what he was about to step into.<p>

What he stepped into, was like experiencing the beginnings of an atomic explosion, a full panoramic assault of the senses from the moment he shut his eyes ... he sat watching as Kevin's consciousness – thoughts, emotions, feelings, memories, an entire life's worth of them - all replayed impossibly fast and then splintered into millions of tiny bits, spreading out in a thunderous tidal wave of energy which buffeted past him in a blast of the most intense white light imaginable.  
>As everything Kevin Flynn had once been simply disintegrated into both nothingness and everything all at once right before his eyes, Alan Bradley felt like he was disintegrating right along with him. Trying to avoid panic, he kept his eyes shut, reaching out and grabbing hold of Kevin's outstretched arms, forcing his own mind to quickly follow through to what might be a logical conclusion in an illogical setting ... <em>this was only a simulation, not reality...the chair he was sitting in was the reality, Flynn's arms in his shaking grasp were the reality...this horrifying vision he was seeing was not...it was only a simulation, a reliving of what had apparently been the reintegration, the force of which had temporarily caused complete and unmitigated disarray in the Grid.<em> And so, he reasoned, apparently Kevin was trying to deliberately create a psychic disturbance by re-enacting the reintegration mentally with Clu, or at least recreating its intensity, in order to distract the Master Control Program just long enough for Tron and Junior to get safely through the portal without interference.  
>Focusing on that theory as best he could while also trying to force down the surge of panic and anguish which was rising in his throat, Alan kept his eyes tightly shut and even forgot to breathe for a moment, hoping this would be over before he passed out from shock.<p>

And then all of a sudden, it worked.  
>A brilliant flash of light filled the tiny laser lab, and Alan opened his eyes, gasping for breath as he let go of Kevin's arms and stood up from the chair, nearly falling backward over it to make way for the tangle of limbs now on the floor at his feet.<p>

"_Holy-freakin-cr-" _Kevin stopped himself mid-sentence as his eyes flew open just in time to see Alan looking at him equally as panicked, and Clu standing beside him shaking like a leaf with tears in his eyes.

Still completely dumbstruck at having mentally experienced the process of Kevin's coding being blown apart piece by piece and obliterated at the speed of light, Alan removed the headset and stared at his old friend in disbelief like he'd come back from the dead. Because actually, he had. Finally he managed to find words.

_"...Are you... okay?"_

Kevin answered him somewhat breathlessly, his chest still heaving. _"...Yeah." _

Alan continued to gape at him in astonishment, catching his own breath, and then he finally blurted out the words. _"Jeez, Flynn! __**THAT'S**__ what you and Clu went through? And, ... you somehow __**survived **__**it**__?"_

Kevin nodded, taking in a deep breath of air and exhaling more slowly. Clu looked at Alan and nodded as well, trying to regain his composure, blinking rapidly and scrubbing his hand across his cheek to swipe away the tracks of tears which had escaped his eyes.

_"Well. Reliving it with you was certainly a delight ..." _Alan paused, drawing in a long breath and then exhaling as he smirked, shaking his head. "_Looks like I picked the wrong week to stop sniffing glue."_

A couple of seconds passed, then Kevin spluttered with laughter, grinning. Leave it to Alan Bradley to unearth a quote from 'Airplane' at a time like this. And it worked, dissolving Kevin into incredulous, giddy, tension-relieving giggles, though Alan was still too addled to do much more than chuckle along somewhat nervously.  
>After a few seconds the two of them suddenly looked down to see Tron sitting on the floor below their chairs blinking up at them, eyes still adjusting to the bright fluorescent lighting and struggling for focus without his glasses. Next to him sat Junior, trying to extricate his feet from where they were entwined with Tron's and with the chair legs.<p>

Alan lurched forward, reaching to his former program and helping him to his feet. "_Tron! Boy am I glad to see you! Are you alright?" _

Tron nodded, blinking in the direction of a very blurry Alan's face. Flooded with relief and smiling, Alan gathered him into a tight embrace. When they pulled apart, Kevin patted Tron's back.

"_Good to see you, buddy. Glad you're okay. You sure gave us a scare."_

Clu didn't speak, but wrapped his arm around Tron's shoulders protectively, guiding him from the tiny room into the larger office as Alan followed on the other side of them.

Just then, Junior's quiet voice spoke from where he still sat crumpled in a heap on the floor between the two chairs. _"Don't feel like you have to help me up or anything, guys." _

Kevin turned around suddenly, then reached a hand to the young man, who took it and slowly leveraged himself to stand. As the younger Dillinger dusted himself off, the former Grid Creator smiled and looked at the young man, reaching out his hand again, this time for a handshake.

"_Thanks, man. You did it. You saved him." _

Somewhat tentatively, Junior nodded and returned the handshake, and then nervously, almost shyly, he turned to the desktop to shut down the computer equipment. Kevin took off the headset and moved out of the way, letting Junior take the seat. Then he stepped out of the tiny room and joined Alan, Clu and Tron in the office.

Alan was leaning back against the wall, trying his best to de-stress from what he'd just experienced. Tron stood beside him, still squinting, blinking and looking around the room trying to see clearly. After a moment of watching his former program, Alan grinned, removed his own glasses, handed them over to Tron, and then leaned his head back against the wall again, this time closing his eyes.

Tron put the glasses on, then smiled proudly back at his User. "_Thank you, Alan One- … um,...Alan."_

Without even opening his eyes, Alan gave another grin and nodded. He knew the 'thank you' wasn't just for the glasses. "_Mm-hm. No problem."_

Clu looked over as Kevin approached, his face still somewhat ashen and definitely apologetic. _"I'm sorry, Kevin, ... I'm sorry I abandoned the plan ... I just couldn't- ... couldn't go through that … not again. It was- ... it was horrible."_

But Kevin just smiled sympathetically, putting his arm around his young doppelganger. _"I know, buddy. I know. And I'm sorry I put you through it. But you did just fine, and, it worked. You okay?"_

Clu nodded, brow still furrowed and the tension still leaving him slowly. After a few more seconds, he spoke again, looking at Kevin. _"So,...what do we do now?"_

Kevin sighed, eyes widening as he exhaled, and he glanced across at the phone on Junior's desk. Patting Clu on the back, he took a step towards the desk, running a hand through disheveled hair and trying to order his thoughts. _"Well, ... a lot. First, 'probably need to let Sam and Quorra know Tron's okay, that we're all __okay,...and-" _

He paused, turning to look at Junior who was emerging from the tiny room and walking wearily towards the couch. Kevin pointed at the phone. __"...hey, mind if I call them from here?"__

Junior nodded his permission and waved a hand, then flopped down onto the couch, seeming a bit exhausted. Kevin walked towards the desk, and continued answering Clu's question.

_"...yeah,... so there's that. Then when Sam and Q get here, maybe dinner. Then after that, … guess we all sit down, start figuring out how to save the Grid, maybe get some rest somewhere along in there, too ... and, ..."_

Kevin's voice trailed off as he wrestled with the cord on the receiver to untangle it, then he stood pressing random buttons until one of them accessed an outside line and a dial tone. Pausing before he dialed his son's number, Kevin looked up from the phone, and grinned at Clu.

"_... then after that, ... at some point, 'guess you and me oughtta' get started figuring out how to change the world together, buddy. At least, ... figuring out how to change the things we can."_

Clu grinned back at his Creator_. ___"That sounds like a plan."__

* * *

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